My Glory
by Alec Ramki
Summary: The Triwizard tournament seen not through the eyes of Harry Potter, but of an orphan from Beauxbatons. Different yet similar. This is the tale of Olivier Laurence and his tragic search for love and acceptance.
1. Raise Your Goblet

**My Glory.**

**A/N:** Hello again. I've had this idea on my mind for a while. Now I know that you have seen a lot of this type, but I had to give it a shot. I reached a proverbial wall with my other fanfic. I'm hoping writing this out will help with that. R&R, and enjoy.

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Chapter 1: Raise Your Goblet

I always believed myself unfortunate whenever my conversations with others wandered down the path leading to subjects such as family and siblings. I have been on my own for as far as my memory stretched and for a long time, I believed that I would die on my own, body discarded and forgotten amidst the roaring of the tragedy, or the silence of my solitude. At times, I catch a glimpse of a life that was robbed from me as a child.

There was this dream, throughout the years, that never faded, never shook. I can still remember the golden locks framing her blue eyes as she held me at three years old in front of the mirror and dried my hair. Though the towel kept falling on my forehead and interrupt my on-going comparison of our identical eye color, her humming kept me distracted enough to remain quiet and turn my attention to the loving smile on her face. I was never too sure why it was just the two of us, but she always told me that I was as dashing as my father, I can recall her saying that I was the stunning image of him yet I could see more of myself in her.

At that age, I never really asked where my father was, as I could only assume that he had something to do with this war that mother kept whispering about. It was June of the year nineteen-eighty, and I was Olivier Laurence, a five year old that was born to self-cleansing pots and magic in its entire splendor. Alas, the joyous child I was could not have pictured having the opportunity to travel from France to another country. I did not expect to be confined to a house with an anxious mother. And I certainly did not expect masked men to blow the door to pieces.

They killed her in front of me.

I would have suffered the same fate, I'm sure. Perhaps that experience was the reason that I grew up to be as fucked up in the head as I currently am. I had whimpered from my position underneath the table, and as it seems, the sound alerted the intruders to my presence. They pulled me from my hiding space, lifting me in the air and proceeded to speak in English, a language that I did not understand at that age. I thought I was about to be thrown to the ground when light filled the room and a man with a long white beard materialized.

Albus Dumbledore saved my life that day. But he came too late.

I was alone in the world, but the old man had plans for me. I hoped that I could remain with him simply because being around the old man radiated safety. I was disappointed, however, when I was told that I had to go to an orphanage. I had no living relative, and though I argued that my father had to come for me in the future, I was only told that my mother had been a hero, and neither guardian was coming for me.

Funny how, for three years in Britain, no one called my father a hero, or spoke his name in front of me.

I spent six years in an orphanage in Cannes, my hometown. The woman that received me my first day there sneered in my direction and directed her words to the man accompanying me. She asked if "this" was the Veela spawn, and as it appeared the man confirmed her doubts. I never figured out why she hated me so much. If she had a problem with my mother, or Veela in general, there was no reason to throw that in my direction. I was a male, and I possessed nothing of my mother's heritage, expect perhaps, for the usual features, no powers, no allure, nothing. That did not seem to penetrate her thick-skull though, and I had to spend six years attempting to avoid her. On my Eleventh birthday, all of it changed.

I was taught English, and by the time that I prepared myself for Beauxbatons, I was quite proficient. I couldn't wait to leave, and part of me hoped that the same old man with the beard would be the one to come for me, to take me there. Alas, it was a woman that came. A smiling kind woman was a change in a life filled with sneering old hags and young orphans. It was a welcomed feeling that claimed me when she kneeled before me, and announced that I was leaving this place.

There isn't much to say about Beauxbatons, only that I simply couldn't belong. It was my fault, I admit. Perhaps I didn't try hard enough. But it appeared from the start that I was not going to belong anywhere. As it seems, my mother being a "creature" did not sit well with a select few. Once more I found myself wondering why and how these people came to believe that my mother being a Veela could affect my intelligence in any way. Other than the commonly agreed upon good looks, I had inherited nothing from my parents.

The select few mentioned above made my life quite horrid. After the initially ignored comments and sneers, their approach turned physical. Once I found a dead chicken in my bed. On another occasion my schoolbag exploded into feathers. This, apparently, was quite hilarious.

The bigotry was not shared everywhere, for a few came to my aid at times. It did not stop Stephan Descards though. He led a group of our peers in the purpose of showing how unworthy some of us were. I made it a habit to avoid him since my first year. Many did the same. But a only few thought that such a bigot did not belong in our midst. Unfortunately, having a powerful father in the ministry could get you a long way.

All of it changed when Sebastien Delacour ran for minister in our third year. His daughter's opposition of Stephan's actions was more pronounced than ever. The boy was wise enough to use his head and cut his offending attitude. Opposing a minister's ideals was never smart. That should tell you a thing or two about the French wizarding world. All in all, the powerful families believed in whatever the more powerful believed. It is amusing how belief is turned into a trend. Perhaps they would all start wearing blue if Delacour took a liking to the color.

Fleur and I never really became friends. She was an insecure girl that doubted everyone and anyone around her whilst I was a quiet boy that had no friends with nothing to his name but a change of clothes offered to me by the headmistress. We exchanged words on occasion, and I could feel that she always had something to say to me. But as it seems, there were more reasons to dislike me than my mother's heritage. Many whispered that my father was some sort of mercenary, whilst my mother was a whore in some brothel in Britain for three years.

Fleur, just like many others, was warned away by her friends. I really couldn't care less.

Madame Maxime was always friendly to me. On more than one occasion during my fourth year, she would stumble upon me in the stables, sitting quietly with a book and admiring the winged horses that Beauxbatons took pride in demonstrating on every other school year. I was told that many magical academies used ships and trains, while Beauxbatons was the only one that owned a charmed carriage, and pure noble winged horses. The headmistress sensed my loneliness, I assume. She invited me for coffee whenever she could and we traded stories. Well, she told stories and I simply listened.

The giant mug was only a bonus. I am one of those rare individuals that believe coffee should be drunk in a large quantity, and the half-giant happily agreed. Many times she would attempt to stage a meeting with some of my peers. She had hoped her attempts were subtle but I could always see through them. Claiming that another student was there for coffee because she forgot our weekly plans was a very poor excuse but I indulged her and appreciated her efforts. It was in vain, for no matter how many times she would invite any student, another rumor of my deranged logic and perturbed nature would arise. The headmistress finally gave up by the end of my sixth year. I assumed that my academic performance was the only reason that the half-giant took a liking to me.

It was my seventh year that turned my world upside down. Reality came crashing down around me and I assure you, its weight was none too gentle. It tore at my very soul, but for the first time in my life, I had use for my rusty heart. I shall tell the tale of glorious times that should not have existed, but did despite everything and anything.

Life defies logic, for logic exists in the mind, and minds are created through life.

Red is "red" because someone chose to call it "red". And it is based on that statement that I justify the gut wrenching experience that was my life.

I kept a firm hand on the strap of my backpack as I navigated through the streets of Cannes. It wasn't long before I made it to the hill overlooking the center of magical France, the little town that we called _"L'autre Coin"._ A weird name for a town, I always thought. But I do believe that magical folks were just that. Who in their right mind decided to call it "The Other Corner" was never a question I wanted answered. It was there and there was no reason to fill my head with garbage about idiots with no imagination.

The carriage was there, the horses seemed graceful and majestic as always despite the few younger children fawning over them. There were a lot of people around, students coming back for another year, parents seeing their beloved children off, and of course more than one eager shopkeeper that simply enjoyed seeing the graceful beasts depart from the hill.

I looked around and scratched the stubble on my chin that had appeared out of nowhere over the summer. I ran the same hand through my hair, pulling two blonde stray strands back in the process. I could only imagine that I appeared to be a young man looking for his friends in the crowd.

I was only looking for the headmistress, hoping that she would arrive soon so that I may find myself a good booth in the carriage. Alas, she was nowhere in sight. And to think that such a woman would be easily spotted. I released a long sigh of frustration and plopped down on the grass to admire the town below and simply turned my back on the throng of people. I hoped none of them would approach me and I was satisfied for about ten minutes.

_"Laurence."_

That voice, how I detested it. I flinched and my hand reached for the wand sticking out of the backpack in my lap. Soon enough, Stephan and his band of dimwits were blocking my view of L'autre Coin.

_"I see that you have returned for your last year."_ He said. I could not help but notice how his fat frame obscured more of my view than all of his friends combined.

_"Your eyesight is getting better every day."_ The words tumbled out of my mouth naturally. Stephan made it his responsibility to find me every year before boarding the carriage. I caught myself thinking that I might actually feel weird not seeing him attempt to beat the crap out of me in the future.

_"Indeed. For once I will not stoop to your level."_ He smiled and I arched an eyebrow in curiosity. _"I am in a very good mood. I do believe I will enjoy this year at Hogwarts. Six years were bad enough with vermin like you around."_

I could only assume that it was natural for Stephan to assume that he would be chosen to represent Beauxbatons for the tournament. I sincerely hoped he would be chosen so I could at least have a pleasant year without him around.

The sharp whistle announced that the headmistress was finally there. I turned around just in time to see her open the carriage doors and converse with Madame Michelle Lamarre, our charms instructor. I honestly couldn't have been more thankful for the interruption. I heaved my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, stalking toward the carriage.

I was last in line by the time I reached it. I always made sure of that. It made it easier to find an empty booth and avoid everyone stumbling inside or throwing me out. I wasn't useless with a wand, mind you, but I preferred avoiding trouble than curse the heir of a rich family. The headmistress's hand covered my shoulder when I was about to board. _"How lovely to see you again, Olivier."_ Her smile was infectious, and I flashed her one of my own.

_"An honor as always, headmistress."_ I replied. My hand was still positioned on my heavy backpack's strap. I was afraid my shoulder would snap when her heavier hand came down atop it.

She noticed the backpack as she did every year. Nearly all my peers had trunks and such, but I simply could not afford it. I was living off the little coins I made from the local wandsmith. I'm quite sure that she did not need to employ anyone, but took pity on me. I usually sat there polishing wands and labeling them into boxes for her, and the old woman always kept me company. For the past summer, she had allowed me to live in the back. I was no longer allowed to remain in the orphanage for I was an adult in our community.

The half-giant's eyes conveyed perfectly what she felt inside. I tensed, feeling an irritating itch in the back of my scalp. I always hated to see that look in her eyes. _"I trust you had a nice summer."_ She added. I was thankful that she chose not to comment on the state of my clothes.

_"Of course. I have taken an apprenticeship with Mistress Davine. Hopefully, I will be seeking mastery in Wandlore after graduation."_ I said. I needed to reassure her, to make that look of pity disappear. My attempt was successful for the woman smiled approvingly at me.

_"An impressive career choice, Monsieur Laurence."_ She lifted her hand from my shoulder, (much to my relief) and clapped. _"We shall speak later. We have a long way ahead of us."_

I nodded and climbed into the carriage. I navigated my way through the long corridor, searching for an empty booth. My search finally ended when I came about an empty one near the restrooms. My backpack hit the cushioned bench and I claimed my seat near the window. The carriage didn't move for ten more minutes and I frowned at the delay. Usually, we would be off instantly. Five seconds into the flight, the door opened to reveal the cause of our tardiness.

Fleur Delacour and Yvette Deschamps stood in the entrance, eyes focused on me. I could not fathom what exactly they wanted, but then again I didn't really care as long as it had nothing to do with me. As it seems, it wasn't any cause for worry. The two girls muttered a greeting and sat on the other bench. I noticed that they were still watching me from time to time, and I had half a mind to ask if this silence was a usually occurrence. Yvette kept her eyes on the backpack beside me while Fleur watched me with interest. The gaze made me feel like an animal behind a glass. I probably could have snapped at her for it but instead, I shrugged and turned toward the window.

The trip was uneventful for a couple of hours. I had drifted off to sleep somewhere over St. Etienne. When I opened my eyes, it was because of a small chocolate frog that hopped on my shoulder. I could see that the two girls were engaged into a heated conversation. I couldn't really hear anything, else I would have woken up quite irritated. Fleur seemed to notice and dropped the privacy charm.

_"I'm sorry, it got away."_ She said. I picked up the stupid excuse for sweets and handed it back to her. I'm not sure why she seemed so surprised. Perhaps she thought I would kill the pair of them or have a mental breakdown. "_Thank you."_ She smiled. I nodded and sat back. We were quiet for a few minutes before I remembered something.

_"Excuse me."_ I said. The two girls turned toward me as one. Seeing neither one was going to speak, I continued. _"Do you mind if I open the window for a moment? My owl should be returning any minute now."_

The girls stared at me as if I had grown an extra limb. Fleur nodded without a word. _"Thank you."_ I said as I stood to open the window. Almost as soon as I did, Aries, my companion, soared in and settled on my shoulder. The girls were still silent, eyes focused on the Scops owl on my shoulder. Aries was one in a million. His feathers, pitch black, were the reason I chose him. He belonged nowhere, and I could relate to that.

Trying not to think about my two booth mates and their gazes, I fumbled through my backpack to find Aries' shrunk cage. The owl hooted as I enlarged it, offended by the idea. I placed it on the table and allowed him to jump in. Carefully, I picked the cage up and deposed it next to me on the bench.

_"What's her name?"_ Yvette asked just as I sat down. I looked over at her, wondering what exactly was going through her mind.

_"It's a male actually."_ I corrected her. _"His name is Aries."_

_"He's beautiful."_ Yvette said. I couldn't help but notice that Fleur was silent still. She seemed to be calculating my very existence. I didn't know whether to be flattered that I presented such an interesting individual or offended by her examination.

_"Thank you."_ I replied, smiling at the girl. She mirrored the gesture and continued. _"I don't think we have been properly acquainted. My name is Yvette. This is Fleur."_ She said inclining her head in the Blonde's direction.

_"Delighted."_ I nodded, _"Olivier Laurence."_

_"You're not affected by my allure."_ Fleur spoke abruptly. I frowned as I contemplated my answer. Those are certainly not the words one would expect on a first meeting. "_I just focused it on you and you did not even notice."_ She added.

_"I am naturally immune to the allure, Miss Delacour."_ I stated, _"My mother was a Veela."_

_"I did not know Veela could give birth to males."_ Yvette remarked. She seemed genuinely curious, unlike Fleur's suspicious glances. Hah! They probably did not believe the rumors, or simply wanted to confirm them.

_"We are rare, but we do exist. Immunity to the allure is hereditary."_ I explained. I couldn't help the smirk that appeared on face. _"Certainly cuts down on incest, don't you think?"_

Yvette seemed to find the reply funny, if her laugh was any indication. Fleur did not seem as amused. She didn't speak a word for the remainder of the trip while her best friend and I conversed. We talked about little things, really. It was only when we started discussing the upcoming year and the Triwizard tournament that Fleur chose to participate.

_"Do you know how the staff intends to choose representatives?"_ Yvette asked me.

_"I'm not sure. I assume they would review everyone's time at Beauxbatons along with grades and such records."_ I said, deep in thought. I wondered briefly if there was a magical instrument to make the process easier.

_"I'm certain that there is some sort of charmed item for that purpose."_ Fleur said. I wondered if I should tell her that she voiced my exact thoughts but I refrained. I simply nodded and the conversation died out.

A sudden thought popped into my head. _"Were you two late earlier? I couldn't help but notice that you appeared just when we took flight."_

Yvette nodded. _"Seigneur Delacour insisted that our safety was paramount. Fleur and I were escorted here by a squad of Aurors."_ The other girl scowled.

_"A paranoid bunch to top it off. Did you see how they tried to confirm Madame Maxime's identity?"_ Fleur's tone conveyed no humor, and Yvette laughed at her friend's frustration. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of someone asking the half-giant to confirm her identity.

Soon enough, I could see the Beauxbatons grounds as we approached the palace. I retrieved Aries and freed him from his cage. He hooted and flew out the window, disappearing into the night's sky. I went through the process of shrinking the cage and replacing it in my backpack. As the carriage came to a stop, I picked it up and smiled at the two girls.

_"The best of luck to you both during the tournament."_ I said. Yvette seemed to shoot a strange look at her friend, as if she was expecting her to say something. Fleur simply nodded at me and Yvette turned in my direction. She smiled warmly and thanked me.

_"Adieu."_ I said as I ducked out of the booth and into the busy corridor. Normally, I would wait for the commotion to die down before leaving, but since my two companions were still there, it would have only seemed odd.

Frankly, I don't know when exactly I started giving a damn what Fleur Delacour thought.

When I exited the carriage, I was dressed in my uniform. The boys' uniform was not exactly something I particularly admired. I naturally did not like the color, for I preferred darker ones, much easier on the eyes. Thankfully, only the pants were a horrid blue. I quite liked the white button up shirt. It made me feel all classy. The tie however, shared the pants' color, much to my discomfort.

As we filed into the dining hall for the welcoming speech, I purposefully headed directly toward my usual seat. As I took a seat at one of the round tables the first years were occupying, I did not miss the look on their disbelieving faces, nor the cackles of amusement coming from Stephan and his disciples. I was enjoying the daydream of Stephan accidentally losing his pants in the middle of the dining hall when someone tapped my shoulder.

I turned to find Yvette standing next to me, Fleur wearing a scowl behind her. _"Olivier, we were wondering if you wanted to sit with us."_ I arched a brow at Yvette's invitation. The sigh coming from the Blonde behind her made it quite clear that "we" did not satisfy her.

I contemplated my answer. I always liked to carefully weigh my options. I certainly could sit with them, and I probably would have a friendly conversation with Yvette even if the rest of their table kept quiet. But I certainly was not ready for the aftermath. What sort of rumors would be created about me? They would say I charmed them or fed them potions. Fleur's disapproval only made the choice easier.

I smiled kindly at the brunette. _"I'm sorry, Yvette. I'm not sure that's wise."_ I said. As it seems, neither girls were expecting me to dismiss the invitation. I assume Fleur thought I would pick up my dish, grin like an idiot and reach their table before them. _"As much as I would have enjoyed your company, I don't think either one of us would want to suffer the consequences."_

I felt bad about saying that really. I always imagined someone from their social circle to approach me with that invitation in the past. It would have made my life quite easy. Alas, this was my last year. I was there to survive. Not make friends.

No matter how much I wanted them.

Yvette smiled, yet it seemed completely mechanical on her face, as if she was only smiling to hide her disappointment. I tried to mirror it. I never thought I would respect Yvette Deschamps after seven years at Beauxbatons, but I made a mental note to extend her the occasional warm smile whenever I had the chance.

The two stalked back to their table and I watched their retreating forms. They sat down and as it seems, one chair remained vacant. Fleur shot me a puzzled look before turning away. Madame Maxime stood at the head table and cleared her throat.

_"Before dining, I wish to make an announcement."_ A chorus of murmurs broke off at her words. _"As was included in your letters, Beauxbatons is participating in this year's Triwizard tournament."_ The students cheered as she paused. _"Since the tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, only a select few will be chosen to represent our academy."_ Madame Maxime paused, her eyes roaming over the figures in the hall. _"I, along with various professors, took the time over the last month to study each and every one of you. Fifty names were chosen as the best Beauxbatons has to offer."_

I could see Fleur's chest swell in confidence and determination.

I can practically smell Stephan's smirk of arrogance.

I can… see Madame Maxime smiling at me?

_"Now."_ The headmistress continued._ "Professor Lamare has taken the liberty of placing a charm on the hall tables. Touch your wand to your plate and see if you were chosen."_

Many looked at each other in confusion. I could see Fleur pull out her wand and follow the instruction. A bright blue envelope appeared in front of her. She rushed to open it and smiled as her eyes scanned the parchment. Somewhere else down the hall, a girl laughed heartily and announced that she was going to participate as well. It happened so many times I honestly wondered what it would feel like to be chosen too. I shrugged and pulled out my wand. Just for the heck of it, I repeated the motion that I observed.

Lo and behold.

An envelope.

I stared at it in confusion and looked up to see one of the first years at my table gasp in excitement before alerting his friends. Soon enough, more than one table was looking in my direction. I looked up to meet Madame Maxime's eyes. She smiled and raised her goblet in a toast. I couldn't help but smile back and nod.

Quickly, I fished out the piece of parchment within. Sure enough, my name was there, along with a confirmation that I, indeed, was chosen as a representative of Beauxbatons.

This was a mistake.

As much as I adored the headmistress, she seriously did not know what she was doing. I personally thought the spot was not mine. She needed to represent her school, to give an image of perfection. I was far from the normal type. I didn't know how to be like it, how to act like it and I certainly did not dress like it. The gesture was kind and touching.

But I couldn't let it happen.

After dinner, I walked around the palace aimlessly. I ended up in the stables, mentally going through the pros and cons of the night's news. As it seems, the headmistress did know where I would be for it wasn't long before she appeared. _"After six years, I could swear that given the opportunity, you would never leave this place."_

I chuckled at the words and looked up at her. _"I would leave the entire country if I could take one of them with me."_ I stated pointing at the winged horses.

Madame Maxime laughed and turned her attention to the horses. _"I would as well."_

_"Madame…"_ I trailed off and took a deep breath, _"I do not mean to be ungrateful But I -"_ I was cut-off, quite efficiently when she completed my sentence.

_"But you do not feel worthy of this opportunity?"_ She was still smiling that damnable smile, and I did not know how she could maintain it for so long.

_"Perhaps, it would be wiser to award someone else with the honor."_ I said, managing to keep my voice calm and steady. Silence lingered between us and I couldn't meet her gaze.

_"I expect you to be at the carriage when time is due, Monsieur Laurence. Am I clear?"_ I looked up to see the smile had disappeared, replaced by that stern determination that most of us knew by heart.

_"Crystal clear, headmistress."_

_"Good."_ She nodded and turned away, heading out. Just as she reached the door, she spoke again. _"I also expect you to make me proud, Monsieur Laurence. I should not have to remind one of my star pupils of their excellence, be it academic or spiritual. Am I clear?"_

Perhaps the ability to touch my very soul was a half-giant thing.

_"Yes, headmistress. Perfectly clear."_

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**A/N :** I forgot to make something clear. If it's in Italics, it's French. What did you think? Any ideas? Speculations?


	2. Onward

Chapter 2 : Onward.

**A/N: **I get the feeling that I overdid this chapter. I don't know, but the changes that did take place seem too gigantic for one chapter. I'm wondering if I should have elaborated me. Welp, let me know what you think when you're done reading.

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I woke from the dream. The one that was stuck on repeat, a catchy song without meaning or purpose. After some time, I guess I just got used to it. The sudden cries of pain and murmurs of discomfort had stopped long ago, replaced with mild irritation. I feared it would eventually drive me mad to relive my mother's final moments again and again, until whatever gods decided that the situation lost its humor, and that I no longer served the purpose of their amusement.

The insistent tapping on my door interrupted my much needed rest. It took all my willpower to get out of bed and reach for the shirt hanging off the side of the sofa in my room. I quite liked the changes made to our dorm rooms. This was an improvement compared to the crowded matchbox I was used to for the first six years. I remember hearing the headmistress saying that she might consider making all rooms identical. If only I had more time to enjoy that.

As I pulled the shirt over my head, the knocking became even more insistent. My sleep-addled mind could not even begin to compose suspicious conspiracy theories regarding the unknown visitor. No one remained confined within the common room walls on a Saturday afternoon. Furthermore, no one visited me. Aries hooted from his perch in the corner as I stepped forward to answer the door. I'm not sure why seeing Yvette standing there did not surprise me. I frowned, thinking that perhaps I was wrong two weeks ago and shouldn't have been as civil.

_"__Salut, Olivier."_ She sounded too friendly for my taste. I couldn't help but feel suspicious.

_"__Is everything alright, Yvette?"_ I asked. Perhaps my suspicion seeped through my voice, because her face morphed into a kind expression.

_"__I was wondering if you had plans for the afternoon."_ She began. This sounded like the beginning of a bad prank. How many times did little ol' me fall for that? More than I can count on one hand, I assure you. First it starts sweet and friendly and I end up being the punch line of a sick joke. _"Madame said that we needed to practice our English. She also said that you are quite proficient."_

Does every authority figure in the continent feel the need to mother me?

_"__Well…"_ I trailed off, thinking of a smart way to put this issue to rest without endangering myself. My cautious thoughts were jumbled at the sight of her expectant hopeful eyes. Dear Cersei, if I kept losing my wits to every attractive female, I certainly wouldn't have a chance in the real world. But then again, I do believe that I was long overdue for some teenage stupidity. _"Alright."_ I affirmed.

Yvette grinned at my response and gave a sharp nod. _"Excellent. How about we meet near the dining hall, say, two hours from now?"_ She suggested.

I nodded once more in affirmation. I was just about to turn around and head back inside when a sudden thought popped into my head. _"Yvette."_ I called just as she was about to walk away. _"Just the two of us, right?"_

For the life of me I couldn't figure out why that question made her flush a deep crimson. I was only hoping that the little snob Delacour wasn't coming along. _"Of course."_ Yvette's smile was probably too gentle. But then again was there anything normal about these girls? Now don't take me for a sexist idiot, but have you ever seen how teenage girls smile when they need favors?

I gave a nod in response and ducked back into my room. Aries hooted and fixed me with a piercing gaze. Ruddy chicken sometimes makes me wonder if it knew Legilimency. I shrugged at the thought and moved into my bathroom to clean up. I had two hours to get my business in order and grab some food before meeting up with the proverbial pain in the ass. I couldn't really say anything negative about Yvette, for she treated me with the utmost respect and had been nothing but friendly to me, but I could put my years of isolation into use and mock her friendly attitude.

What can I say? Some of us live on such things. Some of us simply don't.

It was roughly two hours later that I rounded the corner to the dining hall. True to her word, Yvette was standing near the door clutching a handful of books and a bag that I simply did not like to think about. That was an issue for another time, but a quick advice to all males out there; Do not ever think about looking inside a woman's bag. The legend says that there might be magical artifacts within with the power to send men into oblivion, into insanity.

_"__Shall we?"_ I spoke just as I was a few feet away. Yvette turned to greet me and peered inside the dining hall.

_"__It is too crowded in there. Perhaps we could find a good spot outside?"_ Dang that hopeful look again. I took the liberty to look through the open dining hall door. It was crowded indeed, but I was sure we could find a good spot and study in peace. Nothing a good privacy charm couldn't fix, I always say. Still, I could use some fresh air. It always helped with practicing almost anything. Once more I nodded, and we were on our way to the gardens in no time.

We walked in silence. Our steps were not hurried and for some reason Yvette did not seem to mind. You would think that such a girl would want to get there as fast as possible and get this over with. This was strange. I, however, had a different plan.

"Alright." I said in English. Yvette looked up at me in confusion before it clicked in her mind. "Ze best way to practice is to maintain a conversation zat makes you feel comfortable." I continued.

It appears that I made a good impression. Yvette frowned in thought as she spoke. "You speak ze English well. Your don't even speak wiz much accent." Was her reply.

"You speak English well." I corrected. "You don't even speak with an accent."

Yvette seemed satisfied and nodded for me to continue. It started off rocky, and believe me I was irritated. It was almost like conversing with a giant from the crusades. Still, Yvette managed to impress me after almost two hours. She could compose a sentence and spot her own mistakes without difficulty. She was far from perfect, but she was close enough.

And I mean the language there.

Perhaps not just the language.

It was confusing really, to get along well enough with someone of my own age. I had gotten used to older chaps from L'autre Coin. I do believe it's an understatement to say that fifty year old shopkeepers had nothing on my study-buddy.

We sat on a bench within the flower gardens, just a few feet away from the fountain. It was a beautiful fountain with a statue of a witch and a wizard in armor, holding wands to the heaven. I often wondered who they were, and what they had done to earn a spot there, but I guess I had more interesting research topics to look up than a stupid fountain.

_"__I agree."_ Came Yvette's voice and I realized that I had spoken my last thought. _"I'm not sure if that was based on reality. Someone probably just thought it would look nice."_

That was probably accurate. I shrugged and diverted my gaze elsewhere. We had finished practicing fifteen minutes ago and had nothing to talk about. Not only was she a stranger that I did not trust, Yours Truly wasn't the most brilliant conversationalist. We sat in silence for a little while. I soon noticed figures trudging up the gardens toward us, toward the palace. All the students returning from their weekly trip to town carried bags, boxes and bags. I couldn't help but wince at the thought of being exposed. Sitting in the open was not an everyday occurrence for me. I had learned my lesson the hard way.

The first few to pass us took the time to stare at us as they did. One girl seemed puzzled to see me outdoors. Another was puzzled to see that I had company. Yet another guy appeared stunned that Yvette WAS said company. I couldn't help the sigh of frustration. Quickly, I turned to regard Yvette. I preferred silently gazing at her than watch all the passing reactions.

_"__Yvette?"_

What do you know! Little bratty-

_"__Fleur!"_ Called Yvette as she spotted her friend.

I winced when her footsteps got closer to us. I seriously did not count on this to happen. Alas, it was happening, and I could do nothing to escape it.

_"__What are you doing?"_ She asked suspiciously. Oh I can just imagine the list of potions and compulsion charms that I may or may not have used on her best friend running through her mind.

_"__Olivier was helping me practice my English."_ Yvette responded brightly.

_"__That is very nice of him."_ Was Fleur's response.

An uncomfortable silence loomed over us for exactly forty-five seconds. I could tell that Fleur meant her last sentence to be a dismissal. Alas, being the man I was, I certainly did not catch it at first. If her tone was no indication, the silence that came afterwards was proof enough. _"Well."_ I broke the silence and turned to regard my newly acquired study-buddy. _"I do believe my job here is done."_

As I stood, Yvette deposited the books on the bench and stood as well. "_Thank you, Olivier. What do you say we do this again?"_

I wanted to point out that she certainly did not need any more help with practicing as it was clear that simply going to Hogwarts would be enough practice as it is. However, I knew she meant well. _"I look forward to it."_ I gave a nod to the silent Veela and was on my way back to the student quarters.

Anyone that knew me well enough would be surprised that my day did not include incidents. It was when I stumbled upon an unused corridor that I knew my luck did not change. Stephan and two of his "allies" were seated on the floor, laughing at something. I contemplated turning on my heel and finding another path, but they had already seen me and stood to greet me.

Such gentlemen, I know.

_"__One of the fifty representatives graces us with his presence."_ He drawled. _"How nice of him."_

_"__I thought you were enjoying a year without scum like me around."_ I replied as I continued on my path, passing the three idiots. _"You're still getting your wish."_

Apparently, I have a knack for saying exactly the wrong thing. My words delivered a blow to his ego, and the curse hitting my back was the price I paid for the temporary pleasure. As it seems, he had hit me with a disarming spell. It hauled me off my feet as it collided with my back. The thing with fights, is that it all happens too fast if you're unprepared. One moment I was walking calmly, the next my feet were off the ground and the wall was approaching at an alarming speed.

I only had time to raise my hand in order to protect my face before I collapsed against the stone wall. I felt the crack, rather than heard it. My arm falling limply at my side meant it was broken. It felt like jelly. But it hurt like a motherf-

_"__Expelliarmus!"_ Came a female voice. I was preparing myself for a second flight, but it never happened. I turned around, cradling my broken arm to see Stephan's wand in Fleur Delacour's hand. Yvette had her own pointed at the two slim idiots that were still on their feet. I wasn't a big fan of Delacour, but I must say that I was impressed right then. The way that she stood, tall and gracious, looking down at Stephan like the scum that he was. I half-hoped she would transfigure his uniform into something else, like nothing at all. I found myself a hero.

For about ten seconds.

She tossed his wand down the corridor. It was an unspoken threat. Stephan scrambled to his feet and chased after it, his friends following closely. They soon disappeared around the corner. I knew exactly what was coming next. The two girls came closer, and I had half a mind to play the wounded victim just to save my pride by avoiding their presence.

Alas, I was not that type of guy.

_"__Are you okay?"_ Asked the two girls at the same time. I raised a brow at their perfect timing.

_"__I'm fine." _I hissed through clenched teeth. Yvette took one look at the cradled arm and decided that I was lying.

_"__We should go see the nurse. Your arm needs to be healed."_ The brunette commanded. I couldn't recall "us" having a broken arm. The use of "we" irritated me more than it should have.

_"__I can go."_ I said. _"Thank you, ladies. But I can go alone."_ I started walking away but they just followed me. Yvette took two hurried steps and caught up with me, walking by my side. I wanted to get angry with her, say something insensitive just to forget the throbbing pain in my arm. But I bit back the first comment that came to mind. I could tolerate their silence presence for a little while.

We were at the nurse's door after five minutes of navigating the castle. The pain subsided for the most part but I still felt the need to throw up. If it weren't for the two girls with me, I would have stopped around a random corner and emptied my stomach.

The nurse, Madame Jacqueline, was a sweet woman. I knew that for a fact because I actually spent a lot of time there during my first year. Remember the pranks I told you about? Yes, those were the reason that I knew the old woman so well. After that year I got used to visiting her for no reason but to enjoy her company. She was constricted to her office, just in case some student had an emergency, and not many staff members made it a habit to keep her company.

_"__Olivier?" _She asked uncertainly as she opened the door. My two companions noticed the way she addressed me, but did not comment. She ushered us inside and closed the door in our wake.

Before she could even begin questioning me, I answered her concerns. _"Only a broken arm. No, I did not get into a fight. Yes, I fell down the stairs. No I did not notify any professor. Yes I came straight here."_ I said in a monologue. She simply shook her head at me and pulled me toward the lit candles in the center of the room.

Now don't go assuming just because we have magic, that just a flick of a wrist would set me back on track. It took two potions and more than one carefully placed charm to get my fragmented arm back in shape. It still felt sore, and I knew from firsthand experience that I needed to take it easy for at least another day.

The nurse stepped back into her office and I leaned against the table to wait for her. I looked up to see the two girls watching me. I couldn't help but feel that tingling itch in my skull. I sweat and get itchy when I'm nervous. _"What?"_ I finally asked.

_"__How do you feel?"_ Asked Fleur.

_"__Sore."_ I answered honestly. _"But I'll survive."_

_"__Why did Stephan attack you?"_

I raised an eyebrow at the question and snorted in amusement. _"When did Stephan need an excuse to attack someone?"_

_"__Good point."_ Yvette chuckled. _"But he does seem to target you on a daily basis."_

I could only shrug in response. _"We don't like each other."_

_"__Stephan doesn't like anybody."_ Noted Fleur. _"And I doubt anyone likes him."_

_"__I think fear is the currency he deals in."_ I threw in. My comment elicited two nods of agreement.

And I never suffered the pain of betrayal, not that of a friend or foe, but that of a scolding, yelling and bellowing voice that could belong to no mortal and to no god but to the silence of my own conscience, to the walls that surround me.

_"__We should go."_ Fleur's voice broke the silence that descended upon us.

_"__I'll be there in a second."_ Was Yvette's reply. Her friend seemed as surprised as I was but complied nonetheless. As soon as the door closed behind her, Yvette turned to face me.

_"__Olivier, I know that we weren't friends in the past."_ She whispered, _"But eleven year old children aren't quite perceptive of the bigger picture."_

_"__I don't hold it against you."_ And I really didn't. I meant those words. _"I never did."_

Yvette smiled, a kind sad smile. "_I would like to make up for six years of hostility." _She extended her hand toward me. _"Friends?"_

Was this truly happening? Was life granting me a chance after so long? I slowly grasped her hand and shook it. _"Friends."_

The rest of the week was uneventful. I had a friend in Beauxbatons, and it was glorious. Yvette sat with me at meals and told me stories about her childhood, her hometown and her family. We walked together to classes and spent a good amount of time wandering around the grounds aimlessly. We traded stories and though it was hard for me at first, I shared some of my best small adventures with her. I told her about my fascination with Wandlore, I told her about the view of the departure hill and how beautiful the lights from L'autre Coin looked at night. She made me promise to take her there sometime.

Many people thought it suspicious that out of nowhere, I had two of the most remarkable students around me at all times. Stephan spread some rumors that I may have applied the Imperius curse or used an infatuation potion. Sadly for him, Yvette's freezing charm caught his nether regions during breakfast on Thursday morning. While he was being escorted out of the hall, she made it perfectly clear that I was her friend, and that nothing they could do would change that.

It's an understatement to say that the gesture warmed my heart.

After the first three days, Fleur started joining us briefly. Mainly she sat with us and remained quiet. I think she was trying to study me and see what it was that drew Yvette's attention. After some time, I found myself in the constant company of the two girls. And before I could process how much life changed, we were packing our trunks to leave.

We still had two weeks till our departure to join Hogwarts and Durmstrang. Naturally, all that my peers could talk about was the upcoming tournament and the events that would unfold. There was a very popular bet about who would be chosen as champion. The odds favored Fleur Delacour.

I wouldn't deny that a few Galleons in her favor were once my property.

* * *

There was a wing full of workshops on the east side of the palace. It wasn't the most used area but those of us that had a hobby or wanted to study any practical aspect of magic claimed workshops within. I had one ever since my third year. It was then that I began studying Wandlore and all I could find about it. There wasn't much that I could do without a wand maker to guide me, but it felt good to experiment with all the material that the staff kindly provided.

Some of it was expensive, and I often worked for it.

It was a nice afternoon that found me seated at my table in my workshop. I was attempting to identify the properties of a wand that I brought back from mistress Davine's unused storage. You see, identifying a wand's properties is a really astonishing task. To the inexperienced, it would simply seem as though the wand maker could feel the wand and the core within. To an extent, it is true. But it isn't as if the wand maker was born with such a gift.

It's the wand maker's experience that really distinguishes them. Along their career, they are sure to come across all different types of material. They simply get used to the feeling of such materials to the point of memorizing them. The task is easier when a certain trait is attributed to each feeling. For example, oak always felt like a rough scaly dragon skin and often felt cool to my hands. If I were to come across a wand that made me feel a new sensation, then I would conclude that I had not come across such particular material before.

Simple and easy.

Cores were much easier to determine. One of the many secrets that wand makers keep is the Fateor spell. It does not straight out tell you what the core is. It does however provide a mental image of the core's properties. For example, a Phoenix feather core would provide, under the Fateor spell, a mental image of fire. Each property is unique to each core.

Simply marvelous magic.

I had created my first wand at fifteen years old. Mistress Davine was proud of her "student". Unfortunately, it was never sold and thus, it ended up in a box on her front display. My second was sold almost a week after its creation. It didn't feel good to watch a little brat walk away with something I spent a good portion of my time working on, but the twelve golden coins that I was awarded were good enough compensation.

Alas, I hadn't created a wand in two years. It wasn't laziness on my part or anything of that sort. I had started on a project a while back. Mistress Davine told me often enough that in order to be recognized in such business, I had to do something to earn respect. It was somewhat a tradition that every young Wand maker would finish a unique project before proclaiming themselves ready for business.

It was why I spent my nights in my workshop.

My project was strange and unheard of. It came up as a silly joke in a conversation with my mentor. She said that staves were not created for a long time. I chose to create one.

She thought I was insane. But then thought I was a genius.

I could hear the laughter coming from the grounds as I attempted once more to apply another metal barrier underneath the wood. No matter how hard I tried, the wood simply would not hold together. Oak was my favorite because it was the safest. The cores I chose were hard to work with, but I didn't get blown up so far.

Hallelujah.

I took another look at the bowl to my right. It contained the powdered Nundu bone that I intended to use for core. It was clear that if I attempted to merge the wood and core, it would be disastrous. The wood simply would not hold together. Metal wasn't helping, and I really was clueless.

Another giggle came through the window.

Damn it.

I dropped the wand in my hand and removed my glasses. I simply gazed at the large piece of wood that refused to cooperate. A sigh escaped as I stood and made it to the door. As soon as I opened it, I found myself face to face with Yvette. I didn't mean to scream in horror, but Merlin's saggy underpants she frightened the magic right out of me.

My shock was mirrored, her shriek almost deafened me. We stood catching our breath for a few seconds before collapsing into silent laughter. _"I'm sorry."_ She whispered between giggles.

_"__Never do that again."_ Was my whispered reply. _"Come in. I want to show you something."_ I stepped back into the room and Yvette soon followed. No one except the headmistress ever set foot beyond this door. I led her to my table and pointed at the soon-to-be staff. _"This is my project."_

Yvette frowned at me before studying the object again. _"What is it?"_

_"__Wood."_ I replied as if it was obvious._ "I'm trying to create a staff."_

_"__Splendid!" _She gushed and hurried to take the seat I had vacated not too long ago. _"How long does it take?"_

_"__I've been at it for over a year now."_ I replied, leaning over her shoulder and bringing the bowl in front of her. _"That is the core."_

Thankfully, Yvette knew better than to touch it. _"What is it?"_

_"__Nundu bone."_ I said immediately. _"It took a month to get my hands on it and an extra month to powder it and stabilize it."_

Yvette remained silent for a few seconds, her mouth opening but no sound coming out _"How?"_ She finally muttered.

I shrugged _"It was worth a lot of gold. But it's astonishing what you can get for the right price."_

_"__Why would you show me all of this?"_ She asked. When I didn't answer, she turned to look at me. It didn't require much movement since my chin was practically hovering right over her shoulder. I caught the gaze of her mesmerizing hazel orbs and the closeness between us sent that uncomfortable tingling itch through my scalp.

I leaned away and pointed at the wood. _"It doesn't want to cooperate. The wood isn't too thick. Thus it will not hold the core without exploding. I tried metal but it doesn't seem to work. If I used a thicker specimen, it would drown the effect of the core, rendering it useless."_

We remained silent as we contemplated the issue. She had no knowledge pertaining Wandlore. But any ideas could lead me down the right path. To be truly honest, I don't know why I showed her everything. It was not because I needed the help. I did it because friendship worked like that, I suppose. Take something, give something back?

I just wanted to give something back. Help was just a bonus.

_"__What about runes?"_

Yvette's voice interrupted my thoughts of friendship and such nonsense. I frowned at her and contemplated the suggestion.

Damn it!

Why couldn't I think of that?

_"__The use of runes is not uncommon."_ I murmured. _"Most wand makers apply runic symbols to stabilize the core. I could just center it on the wood, I certainly do have the space for it and if-"_

I trailed off as it clicked in my head. That was why staves were so hard to make these days! Runes were the key! My eyes widened and I turned to Yvette to find her smiling proudly at me. _"You are a genius."_ I intoned and dashed for the door. I had to get to the library and figure it out.

Sadly, Yvette did not share my enthusiasm.

Before I could reach the corridor, a stinging hex caught me in the ear. It was most irritating that in my haste to avoid another hex, I ran into the closed door. You can imagine what happened. I found myself knocked on my rear while Yvette laughed at my expense.

_"__No more studying today, Olivier."_ She still had her wand aimed at me. _"We are going to enjoy the afternoon."_

Merlin save me, the girl was a menace.

* * *

It wasn't till late at night that I got to continue my research. Yvette forced me to spend the afternoon outdoors doing nothing at all. Although I could not believe how she could ignore my constant whining and attempts to break free, I certainly had more fun than I thought. I was in need of a break, and Yvette knew it very well. She was now able of telling whether or not I have been throwing myself into my work simply by examining my face.

Pfft, women.

Still, when I did get to sneak into the library, I found more than one book detailing the use of runes and the effect to expect. Of course, I ended up loading the lot in my bag and heading back to my workshop. I spent almost half the night reading the old pages, and the rest applying a few runes to the useless wands that I had.

I succeeded. Marvelously.

I hesitated when the thought of finishing the staff by dawn entered my brain. However, I needed to be in top shape to pull this off. I didn't want to sleep through it and end up blasting myself to tiny pieces. I sat back and closed my eyes. I still had the book cradled in my arms and the candles illuminating my dark room. I intended to sleep like a rock for the rest of the day. I had no classes to attend for the morning and I was sure that I could get away with skipping charms. The last thought to enter my mind before sleep claimed me was glory. The glory that awaited my success.

Glory, fortune and fame.

For an orphan of time.

* * *

Something cold and fresh landed on my face and I swatted at the intruding sensation without opening my eyes. It came again and I swatted at it more furiously. The third time it happened, I blinked to find a quill hanging over my face. Yvette's face appeared behind it. Oh joy. Why she had a big smile on her face every day was beyond me.

_"__You missed lunch."_ She stated.

"Mhm." I mumbled and rubbed my eyes. _"And?"_

_"__I brought you some food."_ She informed me again.

I stopped my ministrations and blinked at her. She proceeded to bring a sandwich and a bottle to my line of view. _"Err.. Thank you."_ I still did not know whether this was a dream or reality. "Yvette dreams" haunted my nights a lot lately. And I still did not know what to make of them. Sometimes they were truly horrible, sometimes they were too sweet.

Sometimes they were a sickening mix of both.

_"__Did you find what you were looking for?"_ She asked as she examined the open book next to me.

_"__Yes, actually."_ I responded, eyeing the food wearily. _"I didn't want to risk passing out in the middle of it."_

_"__Can I watch?"_ She asked eagerly.

I shrugged. _"If you want. It won't be anything glorious though."_

And that was how I found myself practicing drawing runes on several pieces of parchment while Yvette kept peeking over my shoulder. We were at it for five minutes until a knock on the door distracted me and I ended up drawing a shape that did not remotely resemble a runic symbol.

_"__Putain!"_ I couldn't help the groan. Yvette slapped my arm and carried her juice goblet to the door.

_"__Hello Fleur!"_

Son of a-

_"__I was told that you were here. What are you doing?"_ Came the brat's voice.

_"__Why don't you come in and see for yourself?"_ I called after the two without turning around. I kept practicing the runes that I chose. I took pride in my perfect performance just as the two girls returned. Fleur remained silent as she watched. She seemed confused as to what we were doing, but her gaze kept roaming around the room.

_"__How many are you going to use?"_ Asked Yvette as she resumed her previous position.

_"__Three."_ I replied, bringing the piece of paper closer to the light in order to examine it. _"Algiz, the rune of protection, Eihwaz the rune of defense and Uruz the rune of strength."_

That seemed to catch Delacour's attention. My explanation coupled with the raw material and the several wands around made a pretty obvious picture. _"You make wands?"_ She asked.

Why do people always sound so skeptical?

I grinned at Yvette and she mirrored the gesture. I levitated the large piece of Oak and set it floating right in the center of the room. _"Not anymore, miss Delacour."_

Fleur sent her best friend a questioning look while Yvette gestured for her to wait.

A swish and a flicker later, the Oak was on my table. I sat on the chair and cracked my fingers. _"You might want to step back, ladies. This might just explode."_

Nothing but the retreating footsteps could be heard.

And that was my cue to get to work.

* * *

Roughly two hours later, I was running through the palace with two witches on my heels. I hardly had any breath left in my lungs by the time that we reached the dining hall. It was full of students but I was not there for the meal. I continued running until I reached the headmistress. She seemed to take a large breath in preparation to yell at me when she spotted the two witches behind me. She frowned in confusion when I grinned at her. I simply deposited the pearl-white staff in front of her and watched her eyes widen in surprise.

It turned out to be fucking marvelous.

A white staff emblazoned with the three most powerful runes of defense and power that I could find, sporting a Nundu's head at the top and a carved-in handle right in the middle of it. When it was completed, I was not able to say anything, and neither could the two that witnessed the operation. I simply seized it and attempted to cast a levitation charm with it. To my utter surprise, the table hovered mid-air before falling down.

That's when we started running.

Madame Maxime stared at the staff for a good minute before running her hand along the soft wood. She seized the item and directed it at the chandelier in the center of the hall. To everyone's shock, it erupted in flames.

I looked around to see the whole occupants of the room staring at me in disbelief.

I did something that few ever could. And they knew that very well.

What happened next was unexpected. I certainly did not expect my Staff to catch so much attention. Word spread out like fire. Students told their friends, friends told their families, parents took it into pubs and soon enough it reached the newspapers. The student of Beauxbatons that created a functioning Staff was the topic that everyone talked about. My name was leaked to the press and next thing I know; I was getting mail from everyone, congratulating me, asking me to do interviews or begging to examine my creation. One time, a man approached me during my aimless strut through the grounds and kept asking me all types of questions.

Who in Merlin's name was this eager reader that was wondering what type of girls I prefer?

It was weird.

What was weirder was that my classmates acted in a different way around me. Of course I was still getting the stares and fingers, but as it seems it was less hostile than before. Some stared at me in awe, others in respect and fascination. But the general accusing glare was still there. I would have been worried if that changed.

Madame Maxime accompanied me on my trip to L'autre Coin to allow my mentor Mistress Davine her right to inspect my work. During the thirty minutes we spent there, I think I was greeted by everyone that had a functioning right hand. The men and women that I knew during my first few years in the magical world were all quite proud. I was even applauded when I first set foot outside the wandshop.

I was a celebrity.

The unknown Olivier Laurence became a prodigy and nobody asked how.

Students made it a habit to greet me whenever I passed them. Unknown faces that I never spoke to before greeted me with friendly smiles that should be reserved for long time acquaintances. It all happened too fast for me to digest.

I guess I just couldn't trust anyone. Everyone wanted something from me and my most prized possession was not safe in my dorm room. Such was established when one suspicious fellow continued to ogle every inch of my person as we were leaving L'autre Coin.

_"__Monsieur Laurence."_ He called and stuck his hand forward, grasping mine before I could say anything. _"They say your Staff is nothing but a fluke. I was hoping for-"_

Fellows like that have the gift of saying the wrong thing just when half-giants are listening. I don't think I have ever seen a man run that fast. His words however, were soon repeated. Not all whispers were positively endearing. There were many articles and reports, mainly interviews with wand makers that I have never heard of, insisting that either I was lying about my creation, or I simply got lucky. Beauxbatons, being the mother of all gossip centers, created various versions of such rumors.

It was a nightmare.

Wherever I went, no matter who I spoke to, the staff came up sooner or later. I would have said something to my professors, but they were just as giddy as the average Beauxbatons student. All of that coupled with my social anxiety made it all just much more fun.

So much fun.

_"__Come in."_ Madame Maxime's voice carried loudly through the door. I pushed it open and entered her office. _"Ah, Monsieur Laurence. Please, have a seat."_

_"__Thank you, Madame."_ I bowed slightly before moving forward and plopping down on one of her gigantic sofas.

_"__How can I help you?"_ She asked me without looking up. She continued scribbling on a large book.

_"__I would like to ask a favor."_ I said. That seemed to capture her undivided attention. She dropped the quill and regarded me.

_"__Yes?"_

_"__Well, Madame."_ I sighed and pulled the wrapped Staff from my bottomless bag. _"I would like you to keep the Staff safe for me. I fear that…"_ I trailed off, but as it seems, she understood what I meant.

_"__Very well."_ She nodded and motioned me forward. I stood and deposited the item in her hands. _"I shall keep it safe, Olivier, you have my word."_

_"__Thank you, madame."_ I bowed once more and turned to leave.

_"__May I congratulate you, Olivier."_ I turned and faced her once more, _"For your choice of companions. Mademoiselles Delacour and Deschamps are both remarkable."_

Did I imagine that emphasis on the word "companions" or is she really mocking me?

I grinned at the half-giant and nodded. _"I agree. Good day, headmistress."_

* * *

And so I was on my way to another country with a friend and ally. Perhaps the foolish desire to prove myself was the reason that I kept thinking about entering the tournament. Perhaps my comfortable solitude was the only reason that I thought I should not. Either way I was traveling to the land of an opportunity unique to none but me. I was on my way to seize my glory.

And how easy do I make it seem. Alas my enthusiasm to prove myself would one day be the end of me. I knew that very well and yet… And yet I could not bring myself to be careful, to assess my choices. I wanted to jump into this adventure that awaited me and consequences be damned, "you do not take the credit for milking a centaur if you wait for it to piss in the bucket." Life was out there, just one flight away, and I'll be damned if I did not cast myself, a man of talent and ambition, right into its core.

It was enough to make my skin itch with anticipation. It was enough to set this lonely soul of mine on fire, a fire of truth, the truth of my existence, my capabilities. I was given the chance to test myself and see how far I could go before the bones in my body would break under the pressure of all that awaited me.

But I was no longer that shy boy afraid of confrontation. I was no longer the Olivier that everyone got used to.

I was a new man, and onward we fare.

Aye, onward we fare.

* * *

It was a long trip. I didn't particularly mind but the weather change was significantly irritating. I assumed that we were somewhere over Scotland by then and being confined to my small room with another silent male student did not appeal to me. Alas, I had no other choice. I preferred remaining there rather than entering one of the common rooms to be greeted by more silence. Granted, my classmates were somewhat civil now, but there was still that awkwardness in the air.

As if someone released a very disgusting stench and everyone thinks you're to blame.

I sighed as I twirled my wand in my hand. The other boy was seated at a table going through a book and pretending that he wasn't watching me. I couldn't help but smirk as the door knocked and caused him to yelp in surprise.

Before either one of us could answer, the door swung open to reveal the headmistress herself. My roommate (whose name I couldn't remember) stood at attention and closed his book. _"Madame."_ He muttered and bowed. I deposited my wand on my bedside table and stood, silently bowing at the woman before me.

She had to duck in order to get inside. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if the carriage wasn't enchanted to be bigger than it seemed. _"We shall be arriving to Hogwarts momentarily."_ She said tonelessly. _"Olivier, you shall enter the hall last."_ Involuntarily, my jaw dropped in astonishment.

_"__By my side." _

* * *

**A/N:** Hogwarts, at last. Let me know what you think of these two chappies.

Until next time,

Alec


	3. Fury, Oh Fury

**Chapter 3 : Fury, Oh Fury.**

* * *

That faint sound, do you hear it? Or is it all in my head? I can hear it vividly. It's nothing but a tune, hummed by an angel that haunts my dreams, my visions and my everlasting agonized memory. Beautiful beyond belief, she was, a silver haired angel carrying a tray of cupcakes and shoving them into an oven. She turned and looked at me, smiled and continued to hum her tune. A tune that I slept to night after night and never once forgot. I watched as I sat on the floor, playing with the small dolls that I had while she moved around, a graceful swan. I could see her soul, her core, her everything in her moves. She was graceful, delicate, sweet and carefree. We were alone, we were poor, we were hiding and we were defenseless. But we had each other.

_Mum,_ I whispered.

I doubt anyone could hear me. But there she was before me, and I could do nothing to wake from this dream, never wanted to wake up. She came closer, her blue eyes unblinking as she focused on me. I was about to wake up, I always did at this point.

"_Olivier."_ She said. Her voice was a melody, a symphony, an everlasting cure to the aching cavity in my chest._ "Je t'aime, mon ange."_

I sucked in a breath as I blinked out of my slumber. I raised a hand to rub the tears away. I couldn't believe that I cried almost every night for as long as I could remember. But was it normal to see my mother every time?

I doubt it.

I swung my feet to the ground and groped for my wand on my bedside table. Once I could feel it firmly in my grip, I cast a Lumos charm and found my way to the door. When I opened it, I realized that my silencing charms were quite excellent.

The noise coming from outside was deafening. Students were running all over the place while professors fussed over them. I wondered if I should be still wearing my pajamas while everyone seemed so busy. I saw Yvette in the crowd and she silently ushered my back inside my room. I offered her a thankful smile. I could understand the hidden message.

'Get caught unprepared and you're in for a long lecture.'

It didn't take long to change into my uniform and comb my hair. Soon enough, I was in the company of an excited Yvette and a very nervous Fleur. The carriage came to a stop and Madame Maxime stepped forward. The plan was to make our way into the great hall when the sorting was done. I, for one, admired the Hogwarts system and the whole process of dividing students into houses. House pride and competition went a long way in building character if properly contained and regulated. The concept was ingenious.

My first glimpse of the Hogwarts castle left me bewildered. I had never seen something so ancient before in my life. The Beauxbatons palace was… new for the lack of a better expression. Hogwarts castle however, practically screamed out "History". It was old and magnificent, a temple of magic, where legends were born.

And all we had was a fountain with unknown faces.

We stood in the entrance hall awaiting our cue to enter. Yvette pointed out the massive stone sculptures lining the walls and stretching up into an endless line. I wondered if these soldiers earned to be personified in statues and placed in such an entrance. Once more, I looked up at the long line ahead of me. The male students were lined up on either side while the ladies stood in four lines between them. Fleur was at the front of the line and I wondered if that was a coy plot to put her heritage to use. I was nervous and I did not know why. I had started imagining myself tripping inside and making a fool out of everyone when Madame Maxime presented me with my Staff. _"Breathe."_ She whispered and squeezed my shoulder.

How hard could it be? Just walk confidently, conjure the school insignia and hope to god that the giant form of the headmistress would cover me from everyone's gaze.

The large doors creaked open and we marched forward.

Once I got to see inside the hall, I certainly was bewildered. I couldn't stop myself from admiring the enchanted ceiling. Now that was certainly impressive magic.

Alas, impressive magic was the least of my concern once I was inside the hall.

I could swear that the moment I got past the door, almost half the population sucked in a breath. Who am I kidding; of course news of my creation reached them. I tried my best to avoid the eyes and fingers that followed me as I walked aside my headmistress. It was hard but I do believe I performed admirably. I raised my staff and I could feel everyone's attention on me. I conjured the Beauxbatons crest in a steady stream of sparks that exploded over our heads.

The cheers that followed were deafening. And then I saw him.

Albus Dumbledore, a man of at least a century and a half, stood wearing a knowing smile and clapping. I could see recognition in his eyes. He remembered me just as much as I remembered him and I was hopeful that perhaps, he could tell me something I did not know. If there was anyone that could shed some light to the darkness of my past, it would certainly be Albus Dumbledore. I looked away and bowed next to Fleur to madame Maxime, presenting her with the Staff at hand.

There, I did not trip and fall.

Fuck yeah!

We were heading to one of the long tables to be seated. For a moment, I wondered if I should join the Hogwarts first years as I did back home. Luckily, Yvette's grip on my arm ensured that such thoughts did not really happen.

I sat between Fleur and Yvette. I couldn't help but notice that we had the undivided attention of almost everyone around. I can assure you that some of the boys staring at Delacour did not even blink when Durmstrang made their entrance. Now I did not have any allure or some supernatural effect, but I did generally inherit my mother's features.

Many enjoyed them, I think.

As expected, Yvette was quite eager to put her English lessons to use. She conversed with two witches that sat on the other side of the table. As was my custom, I simply focused on the plate in front of me and did my best not to listen to them.

Sadly, my plans are always shot down when Yvette is around.

The conversation was about the difference between our schools. As it seems we were seated at the table of the witty, and to learn about something new was an opportunity that they could not allow to pass.

"I saw your picture in the Daily Prophet." The Asian girl in front of me said. It took me a moment to realize that she was addressing me. "You're Olivier Laurence."

I did not know what to do in such a situation.

"Olivier will do." I replied, wearing that damned smile just because I thought it would be unkind not to.

"I'm Cho." She said.

"A pleasure."

* * *

It was particularly quiet outside the carriage that night. One would think being so close to a forest and a lake; some sounds are to be expected. There was no rustle of leaves, no moan of a pitiful animal, nothing but a gust of a cold and lonely wind.

I was seated on the grass not even twenty feet from the carriage. The reason for my late night isolation was due to the endless blabber of all the carriage's habitants. Of course, the tournament, the schools and everything we witnessed within an afternoon was quite exciting. But when it became an endless topic, I really needed some silence.

For some reason, it was as if the Hogwarts grounds were providing me with just that.

As I watched a tree in the distance flick off a bird with two twigs, I wondered if my parents, mysterious as they were, had ever seen this castle. I wondered if my unknown and infamous father ever sat nearby and thought of the future, the past or anything at all just as I did. I wondered if the truth lay in the pages of oblivion, or the unwritten scripts of what is to come. I wondered for a while and then I wondered some more.

Until I was no longer alone.

"A fine evening." Said an old, deep and comforting voice.

I looked up to spot a long white beard and blue eyes that promised wisdom and clarity. Albus Dumbledore stood next to me.

Quickly, I gained my feet and stood straight, bowing to the man before me. "Headmaster Dumbledore." I said. My words were tainted with the faintest trace of an accent.

"Olivier Laurence." The old man said. "It has been a long time."

I cannot say how many times I imagined this situation simply because after a while I lost count. I always, always wished to meet this man again with enough maturity to understand whatever it was he would give me.

"You have been anxious to see me." He said, as if he knew exactly what was going through my mind. "You remember."

He probably did.

"I never quite thought it would happen_, professeur_." I replied, doing my best not to simply jump to the topic.

"And why is that?"

"You are Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of history." I never expected it to happen because he was a freaking celebrity.

"And you are Olivier Laurence, creator of the first Staff of our modern time." He retorted.

Well he had a point there.

Silence reigned supreme for a few moments until I finally couldn't take it anymore.

"Will you tell me?" I asked.

"All that I can." He answered immediately. "As soon as I can."

"Not all that you know?" I questioned.

The old man smiled. "My dear boy." He smiled as if everything was alright. "It has been a long time indeed."

And then he left.

I didn't stop him.

I couldn't.

It takes a very organized mind to see through the words of Albus Dumbledore. Very few could maintain a conversation with the man and not feel as idiotic as your average mountain troll. Simply put, his words were a mystery. And I longed to jump in his path to demand truth and sincerity. But for some reason, due to an unnatural weight in my chest cavity, I couldn't.

* * *

The three whistles that rang throughout the carriage announced the beginning of our second day at Hogwarts. Many of the Beauxbatons students had been up for some time. Mainly, those students consisted of females attempting to look their absolute best for the coming day. I was one of the few others that simply wanted to enjoy the silence of dawn before the storm.

Shouldering the bag that Yvette had gifted me a day before and walking along my peers to our first class, I felt a shiver running up my spine when I came face to face with the man that was supposed to be our Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher for the class we shared with the Hogwarts Seventh year students. He was a mess and I shit you not, that was an understatement.

As I took a seat in the great hall for breakfast, flanked by Yvette and Fleur on both sides, I noticed that Cho took the same seat she did the night before. I wondered if Hogwarts students claimed spots for the entire year, or if she simply thought she could consider herself a friend of ours after that brief chat.

Either way, I did what Olivier Laurence was known to do. I simply dug in, paying no mind to anything but my breakfast. To others, I may have seemed a pompous arrogant little shit but the truth of the matter, I simply was too nervous about being there, and did not want to fuck up in any way.

I noticed Fleur's look of disgust at the attention she was getting. I was sympathetic, of course, and such was clear from the smirk that I was trying to fight down. Yvette elbowed me in the ribs and I concealed my amusement, choosing to dig into my eggs rather than worry about Delacour.

"Hello there." A male voice said from behind us. Naturally, I looked up to spot a young man who seemed to be around my age, robes sporting the blue eagle that Cho wore. "I'm Roger."

His gaze was not on me, but on Delacour. I simply turned back to my plate when I noticed Yvette's look. I didn't know why but I could get her silent communication better than most conversing human beings. Clearly the presence of this boy was not welcome.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt that warmth emanating from our resident Veela. I swallowed the mouthful of eggs and turned a questioning frown to Fleur. As it seems, she was uncomfortable around this 'Roger' as well and her efforts to will him away were not working. Roger the Ravenclaw took a seat next to Cho, facing Fleur and devouring her with his eyes. It was uncomfortable for the rest of us as well. I simply couldn't eat this way.

Fleur's arm looped through mine as she continued to speak to the boy. His eyes widened at the motion. Fleur was using me as an excuse and though I had a thing or two to say about being manipulated, I simply rolled with it.

I sent the Blonde at my side a charming smile, one that she mirrored. The fork was halfway to my mouth when Roger decided to leave.

"_Merci." _Fleur sighed and tapped my arm before resuming her meal.

The whole thing took nothing more than half a minute.

Over the day, I realized that it was a mistake.

Almost every male student in the castle was leveling glares of distaste at me. It reminded me very much of Beauxbatons. It was then that I learned another of life's lessons.

There is no escaping fate.

But there was another form of escape.

After the second class of the day, I asked for directions to the Hogwarts library. One student told me that I couldn't possibly get a chance to breathe with the woman that worked there looming over my very existence like a hawk, but I was appreciative of the silence. If this Pince lady was anything like the rumors, I would very much enjoy the library.

Giant oak doors decorated the entrance, and thousands of books welcomed me home. I felt like I was in my element. I wasn't exactly a bookworm but I was sure I could locate half a dozen tomes about Wandlore. Five minutes passed in search before I found what I needed.

The book was far too high and the sign at the bottom of the stacks clearly prohibited the use of a wand. I was confused as to how to summon the book to me when there was no ladder.

"Do you need help?"

I turned to the source of the female voice and saw a lump of bushy hair that could resemble the top of a tree if the color was different. The girl was holding a book to her chest as if it were her most prized possession.

Smiling that damnable smile, I nodded. "This may sound completely idiotic, but I need a book from the top."

The girl blinked at me a few times before speaking, "You don't have an accent."

"I know." I replied. The girl kept silent as she watched me. Her gaze made me feel awkward and that tingling itch in my scalp was threatening to return. "Er.. The book?" I asked, gesturing to the bookcase.

"Oh." That seemed to snap her out of her daze. "You simply concentrate on the book you need and reach out. It will float to you. The library has a-"

"A retrieval and banishment charms anchored to the bookcase." I only realized that I had interrupted her after a few more seconds. Yeah, I had the nasty habit of catching on a bit too late. To avoid the awkward silence, I did as suggested, concentrating on the book and providing the open hand. The book floated toward me.

"Thank you." I told the Brown Tree.

"I'm Hermione." She said immediately, a bit too quickly. "You're Olivier." She added and reddened almost immediately. "But you already know that."

We remained silent for a few moments before I finally lost it and laughed, managing to keep it down to avoid causing trouble. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione."

Hermione nodded and turned away. She didn't take more than two steps before turning back to face me. "Would you like to join me? I'm doing some homework and company is always appreciated."

Why the hell not? "Sure." I confirmed. "Lead the way."

I followed my newest acquaintance to a table with parchment and books strewn all over it. I didn't know why she had invited me to join her, but people have a habit of blindly trusting people they read about in the newspaper.

It was by far the quietest study session I ever attended. Hermione had her head in her books and scribbling furiously. I couldn't fathom why she seemed to be in such a rush.

Half an hour into the book, I lost any and all awareness of my surroundings. There were always new and exciting details to learn. For example, a wand was considered a fine creation when the wood, core and wizard were all compatible. Sadly, there was no way to know such a thing beforehand. It was an issue that no one could solve. Therefore, wand makers would simply attempt to limit their efforts to the core and wood and hope for the best.

Hermione was stealing glances at me.

"What is it?" I asked without looking up.

She was startled, but spoke nonetheless. "Nothing, I just…" She hesitated, but only for a moment. "I've never met anyone at Hogwarts that could get lost in a book."

I looked up from my tome to regard her. As it seemed, we had been in the library for quite a while. Her books and notes were aligned in perfect stacks on the table. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No!" She was too quick to answer, fearing she may have offended me. "It's refreshing."

Before I could say anything else, a boy claimed the seat next to her. Redheaded and freckled beyond the breaking point. "Who's this?" He asked, pointing a thumb at me. He stared at me for a few moments before speaking again. "You're that bloke that makes wands."

Hermione's elbow found its way into the boy's ribs. "Most people start a conversation with 'hello', Ron."

Once again, I felt that my presence wasn't necessary.

I was thinking of a tactful way to excuse myself when another boy made his way to our table. "Hello." He said to me. Round glasses, green eyes and wild hair.

"Harry!" Hermione seemed excited to see this one. "This is Olivier."

"Hey mate." The new arrival stuck his hand out. I grasped it for a quick shake and nodded my head. "You're the newest victim of the Hermione Granger study trap then?"

Said witch reddened while Ronald the ginger snickered.

"It seems so." I agreed.

"The rude one is Ron Weasley." Said Hermione, pointing to the miffed boy at her side.

"Harry Potter." The other boy introduced himself, probably avoiding an undermining comment from his female friend.

"A pleasure to meet you both." I said with a nod. I couldn't help but look for the famous scar that marked the Boy-Who-Lived. It was there alright.

I couldn't help the groan of annoyance when Fleur appeared at the entrance of the library. Ron Weasley stared shamelessly, Hermione scowled and Harry, well, he didn't even look up. I prayed that she wouldn't notice us and simply pass by.

But I wasn't so lucky, was I?

She came straight toward us, much to Ronald's delight. "Olivier." She called just as she was a few feet away.

"Yes, Fleur?"

She scanned the table, caught Hermione's eye and Ron's dreamy expression before concentrating on me. "Madame Maxime awaits your presence in headmaster Dumbledore's office."

Was it just me or did that sound awfully memorized and recited?

"This has been wonderful, Hermione. Alas, I must go." I nodded at the occupants of the table before picking up the book. Hermione stood as well.

"I'll put that back for you." She offered.

I rewarded her efforts with a smile and handed her the book. "Merci."

* * *

The gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office was plain out ugly.

Still, it was impressive when it moved to allow me entrance. I walked up the stairs and waited patiently by the door. Not two seconds passed before it creaked open.

You could almost breathe the future inside the office. I didn't know why anything revolving around the headmaster made me feel this way, but it was a feeling I dreaded to part with. The room promised the future, the past and everything in between. It promised an impossibility of odds, of hope and contentment that I spent my life looking for.

Was this what home felt like for everybody else?

I stepped past the threshold and into the room, taking in the numerous portraits and trinkets that decorated it until my gaze found the headmaster behind his desk, Madame Maxime sitting across.

"Mr. Laurence." The old man greeted me with a wide smile and ushered me closer.

I had a thing or two to say about how the English pronounced my name, but I held my tongue.

Hesitantly I stepped closer to the pair. I still had no idea what this was about. I didn't do anything that could be considered rule-breaking or warrant the presence of two authority figures. So I remained silent.

"I'm sure you're wondering what this is about." The old man stroked his long beard. "Fear not, you are not in trouble."

I nodded and continued to stare at him expectantly.

"I wish to keep my promise." He said. "I wish to share a memory with you."

Now that certainly had my attention.

"A memory, Professeur?" I repeated.

"Yes." Dumbledore confirmed. "A memory of your mother."

There was no other way I could be frozen into place. I lost feeling of my body and all my awareness focused on the pounding sensation in my chest. I looked at the giant woman and she gave me a sad smile. I looked back at the old man, daring to hope, daring to feel and be consumed by said feeling.

I could not name it for I did not know it. But it was like the beginning of my dreams all over again.

Dumbledore must have picked up on it because he stood and walked to the side of the room, waving a hand at a cupboard. It opened to reveal a strange silver basin. I frowned in confusion. Was he not going to tell me about my mother?

"This is a pensieve, Olivier." He explained. "It allows us to review our memories by re-living them firsthand and sharing them with others." As he spoke, he raised his wand to his temple and closed his eyes. When he pulled it back, a silvery thread followed and he immediately dropped it into the basin.

"Shall we?" He asked. I leaned forward and followed the old man's instructions.

I was drowning.

Or falling.

I didn't know which because it didn't exactly feel like either, but exactly like both.

Soon enough, my surroundings materialized and I was standing in a small living room, the headmaster right beside me. He looked younger, but that was only due to the shorter beard and the absence of a haunted look in his eyes.

"Albus."

And that voice was like coming home.

Again…

She appeared with a towel in hand. She was rubbing her hands clean and smiling at the old man as she approached.

"Maman." I whispered, because I had to.

She didn't seem to notice my presence. Her attention was solely focused on the headmaster. "It is nice to see you again." She said and proceeded to hug the old man.

"Maeva." The old man patted her, my mother, on the back until she stepped back. "I trust you are well?"

"Oh yes." She nodded. "You just missed Monsieur Lupin, his shift just ended and he brought me groceries before leaving." She beamed at him.

My mother, my dear dear mother.

"Awfully nice of him." Dumbledore said, hands clasped in front of him.

"Would you like some tea, Albus? I have a pot on the stove."

"I'm afraid this isn't a social call, Maeva. I have news." Dumbledore's demeanor seemed to change.

That haunted look again.

It frightened me to see it on both of them.

"What happened, Albus?" She asked.

"War."

Blissful fearful silence ensued.

"_Putain." _My mother whispered.

"He will come after you. You are not safe here."

"What would you have me do, Albus? I am alone here, I have no family to seek comfort from and Olivier's father is doing your bidding in Scotland. I have nowhere to go!" She was hyperventilating, going into shock, I noticed. And could I feel anything but the urge to throw my arms around her, I would have screamed at Dumbledore to pull me out of this memory.

"You must go into hiding." The old man continued in a calm voice. "I have made arrangements. Get Olivier and be ready to leave in the morning."

Dumbledore, my mother and the living room all swirled into a haze of smoke and I found myself leaning over the pensieve once again.

No one spoke and I continued to breathe heavily. This was too much, too fast. I had to calm down, I knew that much. But I didn't know how.

My dear, dear mother.

"You must tell me everything." I said in a commanding voice. I didn't intend to sound so hostile, but was there anything I could do at this point? The dam had shattered into a million pieces and the tears were running freely down my face. "You must tell me everything right now, Monsieur, because obviously you know more _zan juste une putain de conversation. Je m'en fou de tes conneries, je veux la vérité!" _I was rambling, saying anything for the sake of speaking. I thought it was helping but it was driving me deeper into the drowning sensation of helplessness, of anger at this man that dared to promise protection but provided none.

Was this the end of it?

He knew her. They spoke like long time pals and it irritated me that he, a complete stranger that left me on my own for all my life, knew my mother better… longer.

Maxime grasped my shoulders. Dumbledore forced a liquid from a vial down my throat. I fought, but it was futile against the giant's grip. Slowly, I could feel myself relax.

"Nothing but a calming draught, fear not." The old man assured me as he stepped away from me. Maxime's grip slowly disappeared.

"Tell me…" I whispered, "Please…"

"The key to your tale walked these very halls in Gryffindor robes. The key to your tale, Olivier, is a young boy that was once a Hogwarts student, a student that made Professor McGonagall's job far more difficult."

"Who is this student?" I asked immediately.

"If I told you that, I fear you might go into shock again." The old man countered.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Bear with me, for I will tell you a tale far bigger and more complicated. In time, we will reach your story."

I took a deep breath and nodded, choosing to take a seat opposite Dumbledore's desk.

"Let us begin." I said.

And begin we did.

He told me a story.

He told me a story about four Gryffindor boys that were known for their pranks and antics. He told me about the friendship that they shared. He told me about their leader, a boy that excelled in Quidditch and knew his world far better than anyone else. He told me about his best friend, the boy that caused so much trouble, yet managed to smile in pride at his achievements. Dumbledore told me about a girl and a Slytherin. He told me about the pranks and the prejudices.

And then he told me that they grew to be famous.

Two became the Boy-Who-Lived's parents, one became an infamous yet wronged innocent man, and another became a traitor while the last became my mother's protector.

I didn't know why he told me of James and Lily Potter. I couldn't see how Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had anything to do with my life. I didn't know anything but I listened as he told me of things that were extraordinary. I listened as minutes turned into hours.

"That memory you saw was from the night that the dark lord attacked the Potters." Dumbledore explained with a sigh. "I had been away in France to get your mother to safety when the attack happened. Peter Pettigrew betrayed James and Lily and it was too late to help them."

"What happened next?" I asked.

"When I received the message, I left for Godric's Hollow. Sirius Black was already escorted to a cell, wrongfully so, I'm afraid. But even I did not know that at the time. Peter Pettigrew was believed to be dead and the Potters… Well everyone knows the rest of the tale."

"How does all of this relate to my story?" I snapped, a hint of urgency in my voice.

"When I left for Britain, I left your mother to prepare. Maeva was to be transported the following morning. Alas, Death Eaters got there before dawn and…" he trailed off. He didn't need to finish that sentence.

I knew what he meant.

I nodded, because I could do nothing else.

"You see the missing piece in the story, no?" Dumbledore asked.

"My father." I said. "That is the missing piece."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded, "What I am about to tell you is a secret that we worked hard to keep from ever surfacing. For your own sake."

"Professeur…" There was a warning in my voice. I had the guts to dare Albus Dumbledore and it surprised everyone in the room.

His eyes grew compassionate. His eyes became everything in the room. Oh dear heavens, I wondered how hard this must be for him.

My mother…

My dear, dear mother…

"Your father is Sirius Black."

* * *

I had a lot on my plate.

Aside from the proverbial bomb that Albus Dumbledore had dropped on my sordid past, I had a lot on my plate.

By the time that I had left the headmaster's office, it was time for dinner. Yet I had no appetite, I had nothing on my mind save the angelic face of my mother. I wondered briefly if I could afford to buy a device like the headmaster's, and see her again and again.

It was highly unlikely, but was it so wrong to hope? Hope in vain, or otherwise, hope in truth. Hope was hope and I gave no heed to the impossibility of the stacked odds. Boys my age would be worrying about the tournament, about the pretty witches from new schools and in severe cases, about some bully that wouldn't leave them alone.

I had no eyes for witches, tournaments or bullies.

I only wanted my mother or whatever remained of her memory.

As I walked to the Great Hall, deep in thought, I failed to notice Albus Dumbledore and Madame Maxime walking a few feet behind me. I simply pondered the fact that I did not possess anything that could have belonged to my mother. But that was just the least of my worries.

My father, Sirius Black, presented a far bigger dilemma.

It wasn't hard for me to accept that he was innocent. Part of it was due to Dumbledore's saint-like demeanor, but mostly, I knew deep in my soul that my father could not be evil in any way. It was impossible and I couldn't fathom the opposite.

Sadly, he was a wanted man, and the headmaster, bound by some oath or spell, could not point me in the right direction. He could only promise me assistance and nothing else.

And still I walked.

I reached the hall before long and while I wanted to be left to my thoughts, I felt this undeniable urge to feel life around me. It's hard to explain, but all I can say is that whenever thoughts of my past haunted me, it was better to surround myself with noise.

It distracted me.

It made me feel like I belonged somewhere in this cruel world. Pathetic, I know.

Yeah, that and every student had to be present for the champions to be named.

Yippe-fucking-yay.

Now before you dub me as the angst filled teenager, let me pause this story for a moment to share a secret.

I have known misery. I have known misery far more than a boy of my age should have. But by Merlin, I had incredible memories. They hadn't manifested until later in my life, but they were there.

Now that you have that in mind, let me continue the tale of my past.

I walked, as if on autopilot, toward my usual seat. It was currently filled with freaking Roger again. He wasn't there for the food, he was there to kiss Fleur's arse.

My presence was most welcome.

Fleur sprang to her feet and smiled at me. I almost frowned at the gesture but I didn't have the time to. As soon as I reached her, her arms found their way to my shoulders and I felt something warm, soft and damp press against my cheek.

This Fake-Boyfriend bullshit was testing my patience.

One thing I can admit, Roger The Ravenclaw was pretty damn persistent. A lesser man would have given up by now, but not him. Thankfully, he couldn't stomach seeing his crush so physically close to me. And thus, he left.

I claimed the spot he vacated. _"I am not entirely sure I like this game you're playing."_ I whispered to Fleur, speaking in French in case anyone was eavesdropping.

"_I'm sorry." _Fleur looked sorry. _"He won't go away otherwise."_

"_I do believe half the male population hates me." _ I spoke as I scanned the head table, spotting Dumbledore chatting with one of his professors.

"_I thought men enjoyed being envied." _Was Fleur developing a cynical sense of humor?

I mirrored her smirk with one of my own,_ "You'll come to realize that I am not like other men."_

"_So confident." _Fleur shook her head at me.

"_What happened to you? I thought you couldn't tolerate me."_ I asked to keep the conversation flowing.

"_I may have been hasty to judge you in the past."_ Fleur whispered. _"I am able to tolerate you enough to be your friend."_

Well that was completely out of character. I snorted in amusement. _"Sounds good to me."_

Fleur flashed me a victorious grin that seemed to attract a lot of attention.

"It is time." Dumbledore's voice echoed through the hall, ending all conversation. "For the Goblet to make its decision."

Everyone regarded the enchanted object with anticipation. It took a while but when it happened, the light show was mesmerizing.

The calm blue flames seemed perturbed at first, then shook and sizzled. It turned red and in a flash produced a piece of parchment.

Dumbledore grasped it out of the air as if he spent hours practicing the move. "The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!" He announced, much to Karkaroff's delight.

Krum disappeared into the adjacent chamber and the applause died down just when the Goblet produced yet another piece of parchment. "The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour!"

Now that was certainly some good news.

Before you get excited, this wasn't about Fleur. This was about the extra Galleons I would make from that wager.

Fleur stood from my side as we clapped. I couldn't pass up another chance to irritate her so I stood as well. In her excitement, she beamed at me and made to turn around. I grasped her shoulder and pulled her toward me, pressing my lips to her cheek.

Olivier: one. Fleur: freaking Zero.

She stood dumbstruck in her place as the applause grew louder. Yvette gave a whistle from my side and it seemed to spur her on. The Beauxbatons champion, all elegance and grace, made her way to the champions chamber.

I regained my seat and winked at Yvette. She was enjoying this game Fleur and I played far too much.

Makes you wonder how lonely people are, doesn't it?

"The Hogwarts Champion is Cedric Diggory!"

I couldn't help but think of how weird his name was. As a matter of fact, all British names were weird in a way of sorts. At least, wizard names were so far. I clapped politely with the others, though I doubted my hands could produce a sound to rival that of the Hogwarts students.

They had the home stadium advantage, I guess.

What happened next surprised even the old powerful wizard.

The Goblet produced another parchment.

"Harry Potter."

Everyone was stilled to shock.

Some in confusion.

Some in rage.

Frankly, I was simply thinking about Delacour's lips.

"HARRY POTTER!" Dumbledore yelled.

That pulled me out of my fantasies.

Wait, what?

This was a first. I didn't remember coming across any information about the possibility of a fourth champion. It was purely impossible, unless there were four schools. There was the possibility that the goblet could be confounded, but that was hard enough as it was.

The hall was in an uproar as Harry Potter, the young man I met earlier that day made his way to the adjacent chamber. The professors quickly followed. I found myself in the middle of a raging war.

Every table was filled with at least a dozen of both factions. Those that believed Potter innocent on a side, and those that believed him guilty of cheating on the other.

It was chaos.

An old woman, Professor McGonagall according to Cho, had to resort to magic to regain order. After casting loud fireworks and deducting a few points. The hall was once more quiet.

Relatively speaking.

The meal was fantastic. I adored the chicken. Thoughts of my past left my mind long enough for me to eat. But fate was an ironic bitch. "Olivier Laurence." McGonagall's voice echoed against the hall walls. I turned to see the woman's head poking out of the door leading to the champions chamber. "Your presence is needed in the Trophy room."

Ah, so that's what it was.

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I stood and followed the old woman down the stairs. I was curious to see what this was about. I was soon met with the sight of three champions, three headmasters, two professors, one ministry official and one weird teacher.

Oh, and one little boy scared shitless.

A few drinks, some good music and I could make a party out of this yet.

"Olivier Laurence." The ministry official read from a parchment roll, "You are hereby requested to provide assistance to the Beauxbatons champion during the Triwizard tournament as an official advisor. Will you accept?"

Well that was intriguing. I shot Maxime a questioning look before speaking. "Who exactly requested my assistance?"

"The champion did." The man nodded toward Fleur.

That was very intriguing.

I turned to regard Fleur. She flashed me that same victorious grin. Well played, Delacour.

Olivier: One. Fleur: One.

Well game on.

I turned to my headmistress. She nodded at me and I shrugged. "I accept."

"Splendid." Said Dumbledore as he ushered me closer. I moved to stand next to Fleur. "You will not be getting instructions on the first task. All that you will know is that the task is designed to test your resourcefulness and valor. It will take place in one month."

"But Professor!" Potter cried, addressing Dumbledore. "I don't want to compete!"

"I'm afraid you have no choice." Dumbledore sighed. "You are bound to compete."

"If I may." I attracted everyone's attention, including the magical eye of the weird fucked-up man. "I do believe the greater issue would be finding out who wants Mr. Potter dead or harmed."

My words received nothing but silence. As it seems, Dumbledore was probably the only one that knew what I was talking about. The others probably believed he had cheated. "Only a powerful Confundus charm could trick an artifact such as the Goblet of fire into choosing a fourth champion. I don't believe someone as young as Mr. Potter would be able to bypass Professor Dumbledore's age line, rather than cast such a charm."

Still more silence.

"Potter." I said, snapping the younger boy out of his daze. "What is a Confundus charm and what does it do?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived hesitated before speaking. "Er… It tricks artifacts into doing something else?"

"How would you cast it?" I continued.

"I… Don't know." Harry mumbled.

"You see?" I heaved a sigh and looked over at those around me. Dumbledore was smiling at me. Fleur was confused and the ministry guy, he just looked sleepy.

"If we're just about done here…" I trailed off and watched the old man clear his throat.

"Yes yes, off you go."

* * *

On our way back to the carriage, Fleur and I passed through the Entrance Hall and near a statue. Just as we were about to pass by, I reached out and took her arm, pulling her behind the statue and into the shadows.

"_I understand the need to pay me back for that kiss in the great hall."_ I whispered, _"But this tournament means a lot to you. Are you sure you want me to be your advisor?"_

Fleur's face gained a pinkish hue as she spoke, _"It wasn't about the Great Hall. Madame Maxime suggested I choose you. She said she had yet to meet a student that could surprise her more than you."_

"_As flattering her words may be, are you sure you don't want her to be your advisor?" _ I retorted.

"_Are you questioning your own brilliance?"_ Fleur raised an eyebrow at me.

"_Wait, was that a compliment?" _I frowned.

Fleur laughed. _"Whatever helps you sleep at night, chérie."_

Terms of endearment? Shameless flirting? Actual conversations and blind faith? Compliments?

What on earth happened to the Fleur Delacour I knew?

"_Yvette has faith in you. After experiencing your company, I find myself intrigued by your... resourcefulness."_ She went on, casting a look at the hand still on her arm and making me take notice of our proximity.

Well then.

This had turned out to be one helluva day.

"_My_ _resourcefulness." _I repeated, tasting the words.

"_Your resourcefulness." _Fleur confirmed.

"_Is that your fancy way of saying that I'm an interesting guy?" _I asked, making no effort to move.

"_Are you fishing for compliments?" _Fleur retorted, not missing a beat.

"_I am petty like that, you know." _I said.

Fleur was not grinning. There wasn't an easy going smile on her face. She had an arrogant and snobbish smirk that did wonders to her features. _"Is that why you accepted to help me?"_

"_Of course. I'm after the eternal glory and whatnot."_

We were playing a game that only the two of us understood, a game that never failed to send a shiver throughout my very existence.

"_Smooth, Laurence."_ Fleur chuckled. _"Very smooth. Sadly, the mysterious blonde of tragedy is not my type." _ She tapped my shoulder twice and moved past me.

In the end, I guess it's just a meaningless game with no end or goal.

* * *

**A/N:** Didn't expect that, did ya?

Stay tuned for more.

Follow, review or do whatever faithful Potterheads do.

Heh, that rhymed!

*cough* On another note, next chapter, we get to see Olivier meet a dragon head-on. I hope I didn't take it far with the Sirius Black thing, but I have a lot planned for that man. Whether or not Olivier ever gets to meet him, well… I will not deny nor confirm that.

Thank you for the reviews and words of encouragement.

Till the next Chappie,

Alec.


	4. Wayfaring Stranger

Chapter 4 : Wayfaring Stranger

**A/N: **I have returned. Sorry for the delay.

* * *

Despite the tragic and short memory of my mother, despite the knowledge that I acquired a few weeks ago from Albus Dumbledore, I honestly felt better than ever. I do believe that perhaps I always wanted to achieve something great. Subconsciously, I may have developed the need to excel just to have the means to discover my past. It's almost hilariously sad how people wish they could change their memories while I only aspire to find them.

The days turned into weeks and every meal, I would look up to try and catch Dumbledore's eye. I was hoping that sometime soon, I would receive a password to his office yet it was to no avail. The old man looked as if he had forgotten about my existence, for he never met my gaze at all.

I tolerated the food provided at the great hall and the living nightmare that was Alastor Moody, I continued to play the Beauxbatons student that everyone else stared at in various reactions of awe, distaste or jealousy. I had almost forgotten that all I ever wanted was another dose of what Dumbledore could give me, for my mother was a drug that I could never get enough of.

It was a Thursday morning that found me in Yvette's company by the lake. My companion was rambling on about seeing our headmistress enter the forest with that fellow Hagrid the night before. And as you can imagine, gossiping is hereditary. I must have listened to at least fifteen ridiculous assumptions as to what exactly our headmistress was up to. Personally, I did not even want to think about it.

This Hagrid fella had more hair than was healthy.

While Yvette continued rambling, oblivious to my calculating expression, my thoughts wandered to our school champion. I didn't see much of her these days except for meals. Eh well, I do believe that having the responsibility to represent your school in an international event would break anyone. A wave of sympathy, I felt and I wondered if she would be in need of my consolation.

"Olivier!"

I whipped my head around to glare at Yvette for yelling at me. "What?" I hissed.

"You were off into your own world again."

"I learned that it's futile to listen to your gossip or try to stop you, best to let you finish on your own."

The comment earned me a smack on the arm.

"You really need to learn how to chat with a lady."

I snorted. "When I spot one, I'll be sure to let you know."

And another smack.

"Will you stop hitting me?" I asked.

"I will if you tell me what it is that troubles you."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Should I tell her? Or would it be best to avoid this conversation? How would one start such a conversation? It took Albus Dumbledore a well picked memory and the support of one half giant holding a calming draught to break the news for me.

"Albus Dumbledore knew my mother." I finally settled on simplicity.

Yvette remained silent and I looked over at her to see that same look Maxime had whenever she saw my rucksack.

"What did he say?" She whispered.

"He showed a memory." I said, "His last memory of her."

My voice broke at the end but I was still composed. Yvette kept silent, no doubt awaiting the flood that was bound to come. And come it did.

"She was beautiful, Yvette. She was wonderful and cheery. It was hard at first, but then I saw how happy she was and how joyful she seemed. I mean, she was hiding from a threat of sorts and still she seemed only worried about offering Dumbledore tea!" I chuckled and shook my head. "So many years spent on my own and I can remember every painful event that I went through. But when I saw that memory, I realized…"

"That it was worth it." Yvette finished for me and I nodded, attempting a smile and failing.

Silence enveloped us and we were more than eager to let it. There were no words to be said. I didn't know how Yvette knew what was going through my mind, but I never questioned if she had ever went through the same chain of consequence that I had. Still, as we looked out at the lake, we had grasped a new meaning of our friendship, and we had a lot more respect for one another than we had the day before.

We knew each other a little better, I should say.

"Monsieur Laurence, Mademoiselle Deschamps." Maxime's voice interrupted my chain of thought and I looked up to see the giant figure of the headmistress looming over us.

Lesser men would brick their trousers at the sight.

"Mademoiselle Delacour is in need of your companionship. She is very troubled this morning." The woman said. Yvette and I shared a glance, both agreeing that the headmistress knew more about this than she was telling us. Silently, we stood and walked to the carriage.

Fleur was upset.

No, Fleur was raging.

As soon as Yvette pushed the door to the champion's room open, we heard the muttered and colorful mix of very impolite words.

I truly started doubting whether to enter the room or not.

"Fleur, is everything alright?" Yvette asked just as I closed the door behind me.

Fleur was in the middle of her bed, surrounded by many tomes and parchments, looking furious and homicidal. "No!" She shrieked.

Well that was blunt.

"What happened?" Yvette approached the distressed champion and dared to sit at the edge of the bed.

Fleur took deep breaths, no doubt attempting to calm down, before she spoke. "Dragons." She said. "Dragons for the first task. Madame saw them last night."

"I certainly like this Hagrid's way of courting women." I drawled and made the mistake of snickering.

Two girls stared at me as if they could kill me with their eyes.

I sighed (_I seemed to do that a lot around these two, Merlin help me_) and cleared my throat. "What did you expect Fleur? The Triwizard tournament is deadly for a reason."

"Thank you!" Fleur shrieked. "That makes me feel better!"

"Calm down, will you?" I approached the bed as well, yet I kept a safe distance from the angry Veela. "We have time to construct a very detailed plan to win the task."

That seemed to work. "But you aren't the only one that knows about the dragons, correct?"

Fleur hesitated before answering, "Krum looked like he knew when I saw him today. He kept giving me these knowing looks."

Something turned in my stomach at the knowledge of Krum and Fleur making eyes at each other.

"We should tell the Hogwarts champions."

Once more I got those glares.

"You want to give up our only advantage?" Yvette asked.

I ignored her and turned to Fleur, "You wanted to earn this, no? Win it fair and square."

She sat there thoughtful for a few moments. Personally, I wanted Beauxbatons to win, but if the word gets out that Beauxbatons cheated, it could smear Fleur's name and make her more miserable than ever. Usually, I did not care about that, but then again, she did.

"Do it."

* * *

_Half breeds, we are. But humanity and apathy lie within the soul._

* * *

That evening, dinner was a tiring affair.

First of all, I did not even look up to try and see if Dumbledore was looking in my direction. Fleur was next to me, looking sickly and nervous. She had yet to touch her food even after many attempts from Yvette. I had my eyes on the other champions. Cedric Diggory seemed his cheery old self so I knew the rumors of the first task had yet to reach him. Potter was nowhere in sight but his friends were there.

I excused myself from the table and made a beeline for the Gryffindor table. Conversation dimmed as I approached and for whatever reason, I had the undivided attention of everyone around. Hermione Granger looked up, looking fairly terrible while the redheaded boy glared at me. "Good evening." I said.

"Hello Olivier." Said Hermione, managing to pronounce my name correctly.

Good girl, Hermione.

"My apologies for interrupting your meal." I continued, smiling as it seemed the right thing to do.

"Oh it's alright." The girl next to Ron answered me, "Would you like to join us?"

"I'm afraid I must decline, another time perhaps." I offered, "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind me borrowing Miss Granger for a moment."

Silence was my reply and all eyes turned to Hermione. It took her a moment but she nodded and excused herself. I led her into the entrance hall and stood by the Grand Staircase. A freaky creation, if you ask me. "Sorry about Lavender back there." Hermione said immediately, "She's the shameless sheep of Gryffindor."

Did every single female in this castle have a fucked up reputation?

"I carry a message from Fleur." I said. It would always seem best if the champion is believed to be behind the gesture. "The first task involves Dragons, one for each champion. If you could pass it on to Mr. Potter, it would be appreciated."

Hermione was shocked at my revelation. She didn't seem to comprehend them at first, but her eyes widened dramatically, looking ready to fill up with tears. "Thank you, but… Why are you helping Hogwarts? Don't you want your school to win?"

"Of course I do." What kind of stupid question is that? "But we are no better than cheaters if we have an unfair advantage. Personally, I wish to see Mr. Potter safe, as it is clear that his involvement was forced simply to cause him harm."

Hermione soaked in my words like a sponge. Her eyes kept widening and I feared they might pop. Didn't she know this? "Thank you, Olivier." And then she bolted up the stairs.

Well would you look at that? She wasn't going to finish her dinner.

* * *

_My new year's resolution is to do a good deed every Thursday._

* * *

"A dragon is nothing but a beast. Try to keep in mind that it is no better than an overgrown lizard with pride issues." I explained.

Fleur snorted and looked away. We were seated outside, a few feet from the carriage. The small fire that I made cracked faintly and the champion by my side took comfort and grief in its silent glow.

"Fleur." I whispered, catching her attention. "You need to focus."

"I know. I'm just worried." She confessed and for the first time, I got to glimpse behind the indifferent mask of Fleur Delacour.

"Be well prepared, go in there expecting to win and the battle is already won." I pressed. Oh god, this moral support bullshit was turning me into a sensitive human being.

That's a big no-no in my book.

"A summoning spell is simple magic. Its primary function is to…" I trailed off.

"To retrieve objects." Fleur finished.

"Wrong." I said. Fleur frowned at me.

"Its primary function is to reduce the distance between the caster and the object. Now the use of a summoning charm and a banishment charm could be manipulated. Some wizards with a great measure of control can mix the two in order to fly without the aid of a broom. Alas, it requires far too much power and strength, and mastery of the two charms."

Well, I had Fleur's attention alright.

"You are not going to do that."

She frowned at me again.

"What you want to do is manipulate the summoning charm. For example." I stood and Fleur followed. Brandishing my wand, I aimed at the far end of the clearing and conjured a small wall. "Now what would happen if I were to summon that wall?"

Fleur frowned in thought. "You cannot summon a wall, you can summon a brick from the wall perhaps, or even attempt to-"

"Wrong." I said again.

Heh, I got her frustrated. "Here, watch."

I cleared my throat and aimed at the wall, focusing with all my might. _"Accio!"_

The connection flung me into the air and toward the wall. I could feel its pull on my wand. The gush of air blowing against my face was irritating, but I kept my mind clear of worry. Being anxious, afraid or worried would definitely cloud my judgment. Just before I could slam headfirst into it, I yanked my wand upward, bringing myself to a halt in midair and falling to my feet.

Fleur walked up to me, regarding me strangely.

Hmpf, rude.

"When you're facing a dragon, you do not want to be an easy prey. You must keep moving while you formulate a good attack strategy. Now, what you can do is conjure various platforms from the ground. Stone platforms would be your easiest and fastest choice. Taunt the dragon, but throw yourself atop a platform whenever you feel threatened. You'll be too fast and too small to take down."

"And then what?" Fleur questioned.

Women have no patience, I swear.

"It depends on the task. If your task is to defeat the dragon, then you wish to do so quickly. There are not many spells that can affect a dragon's thick hide, but there are a few tricks around it. If your task is to get past the dragon, then you want as little contact with it as possible." I paused for breath.

"You'll just have to sing a lullaby, I'm afraid."

Fleur almost took offense at my words. She opened her mouth to speak but didn't. I could practically see it sink into her head.

I smirked triumphantly. "Stay on the defensive. Remember, move a lot, and when you get the chance to strike, do NOT hesitate."

"You're a genius!" Fleur exclaimed.

"Resourceful." I supplied making her laugh. Not that haughty snobbish laugh, but a pure delighted sound of amusement. I rather liked hearing it.

"I never doubted you." She said sincerely, awarding me with a gentle smile that I didn't feel I deserved. There was something in the air, a scent, a mixture of raw pure magic and her perfume; it all made for a wonderful sensation. Was this a moment of stillness that many wished for? A calm within the storm? An understanding of reality? Forging a bond that could go beyond mere words? Here I had a beautiful girl, a calm fire and a beautiful night overlooking a wondrous castle.

Whatever it was, it surely was enough to make my teenage heart skip a thump.

"You need to practice this. I don't want to let you risk slamming headfirst into a wall." I said, attempting to change the subject and move on to less awkward topics. "We'll start at dawn, everyone will be asleep."

Fleur said nothing.

"Well good night then." I inclined my head and made to walk past her, toward the carriage and the mental safety that it harbored from my social anxiety.

Fleur held my arm just as I was passing her.

I froze and turned to her in confusion. She was no longer smiling, but her face carried an air of thankful gratitude. "Thank you, Olivier." She whispered and leaned toward me. I was still stiff as a board and remained so even when her lips made contact with my cheek.

Oh, it was wonderfully painful, and painfully brief.

Our playful pecks in the past amidst our attempts to irritate one another did not carry this sort of weight. And I, Olivier Laurence, watched silently as she made her way toward the carriage.

* * *

_The weight of so many lives rests on my shoulders._

* * *

Dawn brought a fair share of change.

The first piece of change was the lack of response at Fleur's door. When I decided to wait for her outside the carriage, I was surprised to find her already there, kicking at pebbles as she waited. I only had to greet her and she blushed.

Fleur Delacour!

Blushing!

We went about practicing. I could only observe and offer instructions where I saw fit. It took me a while to describe exactly how to break the connection and prevent the collision with the target. She proved to be a quick learner and mastered it in no time.

Next came the Transfiguration. She had to practice conjuring her platforms. It was a bit trickier. At first she had to focus on creating stable platforms that would not simply fall to the side at the faintest wind. I decided not to pressure her there and allowed her to take her time.

Once she could conjure fairly decent platforms, it was time to have fun.

"You must remember that you will have a beast hunting you. Therefore, you will be pressed for time. Creating pretty platforms comes with a timetable. Luckily for you, I am not a dragon. If you can avoid my spells, you'll have a pretty good shot at outrunning the beast. I'll cast, you'll move and conjure."

Fleur wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she nodded. She took the time to remove her jacket, flashing a bright blue shirt that clung to her form marvelously.

I won't lie, I stared.

"That is very distracting and hardly fair." I admitted.

"Shush." She said, "Are we training or will you be leering at me all day?"

"Shush." I mimicked her. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are." Was the reply.

"Go!" I yelled.

Instantly, Fleur ran to the far right, brandishing her wand in the process. I took aim, "Stupefy!" The jet of light covered the distance between us in two seconds flat. Fleur ducked and continued sprinting, already in the process of conjuring a platform ahead.

I thought I had her, so I took aim, anticipating the natural trail. I assumed that she would fling herself toward the conjured height, but she outsmarted me.

In a flash, Fleur deviated into another direction, conjuring a second platform, then a third. My spells soared into the air, hitting nothing but air.

Once the fourth platform was called into existence, it was simply futile to try and keep up with her.

I dropped my arm and smiled. This mentoring business was very satisfying. I was goddamn good at it. "Alright, come on down." I called to the girl perched atop a twenty feet tall platform.

Fleur almost glided down to the ground, smiling smugly at me. She crossed her arms and waited, expecting a compliment.

I grinned. "You're ready for this." I said, "You couldn't be more prepared."

"I must confess it was frightening to be flung into the air at such speed at first." Fleur laughed.

"You'd be surprised what you can get used to." I mused.

We worked on vanishing the platforms silently. It took the past part of ten minutes, but we got the job done. As I holstered my wand, I wondered if Fleur could need me at all at this point. "Any questions, Fleur?"

The champion was in the process of putting her jacket back on. I pointedly did not stare, choosing to re-check my person just in case anything was marring it.

"None." She said, sounding surprised herself. "Surprisingly, I feel confidently prepared."

"Excellent. Keep your strategy to yourself, do not tell anyone or you risk being copied. Always train when no one else is awake to see you and most of all…" I trailed off, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Make us proud."

Fleur beamed at me, nodded and jerked her head toward the carriage. "Hungry?"

I shrugged, "I could eat."

"Let's grab a bite in my room."

And that, ladies and gentlemen is how I became a father.

Oh please, imagine that. Pfft, no, we just walked in silence and tip-toed into the nearly silent carriage. We hurried down the corridor and careful not to make any noise, ducked behind the door.

That is how I found myself in Fleur Delacour's room.

I was seated on the bed, going through one of the books that the champions received. Most of it was defensive magic, as if they expected champions to be injured.

Darn idiots.

You'd expect a champion to be always on the offensive. Though it did have some grain of truth in it. So far, Fleur's strategy was to survive long enough for an opening to present itself. Annoy that dragon enough and she might get it. Basically, the plan is not to die.

A fairly good plan, I say.

Cheers.

Anyway, I was on Fleur's bed, did I say that? Oh yes, I was! Sadly she wasn't with me. As I sipped scalding hot coffee and entertained myself by mocking the book, Fleur was taking a shower.

Yes sir, with all the naked glory!

I won't deny that the thought of taking a silent peek into her bathroom crossed my mind, but I was too much of a gentleman anyway. I resisted the temptation long enough for her to reappear, already dressed and ready. She plopped down next to me and said nothing. I skimmed the page and grunted in annoyance, dropping the book almost immediately.

"Boring book?" She asked.

"Useless." I said, taking another sip of the hot liquid. "Could have sworn they want a champion to die."

"Will you be watching with the rest of the crowd on Sunday?" She asked.

"I'll probably be with you until you go out to perform." At least, I assumed I would. "I'm your advisor after all. That should mean something, no?"

"It means a lot to me." Fleur said gently.

Okay, what the fuck?

"Alright, out with it." I commanded. Fleur seemed confused.

"Out with what?"

"Since when do you say things like that?" I went on, "You never go all spiritually emotional around me."

"I just appreciate your help, you prick!" She screeched.

"You already expressed your gratitude! You don't have to do that every damn second!" I hissed right back at her.

Well this was more comfortable than mushiness.

Fleur fell silent at that. I looked over to see her bewildered expression, something that you don't see every day. "Why does it bother you so much?"

"I don't know! Why does that even matter?" I was fine with anger. Yup, anger is good. Anger is safe.

Silence again…

"Is it because you don't… Because you're not used to it?"

Ah, fuck.

"It is, isn't it?" She pressed the issue, "You just don't know how to react when people are nice to you!" She sounded like she was going from angry to sad. "Why didn't you say anything? Why couldn't you tell me or Yvette or-"

I had enough.

I stood, placing the mug on the bedside table and picking up my bag. "Olivier, don't-" Fleur attempted to stop me, but I wheeled on her.

"They were six years!" I raged, for no fucking reason. I raged because she had me figured out. "Six years of school where nothing good happened!" I pleaded with her to understand. "Just drop the issue, Fleur."

And I left.

Yeah yeah yeah, I'm an idiot.

* * *

_I'm alone in my sorrow for a reason, ladies and gents. _

_I'm a poor wayfaring stranger traveling through this world alone._

* * *

Sunday came far too quickly.

The castle was buzzing with life, the carriage even more so.

Ironically, the Durmstrang ship was the same dead lump of wood it always was.

We had breakfast in the castle. It was customary for all champions to be present as it seems, expected even. I kept my eyes on the food, occasionally nudging a shaking Fleur to eat. The other students were giddy with excitement. Oh Merlin, you can hear those annoying twins taking wagers all across the hall. It didn't help that people were passing around gold confident that at least two of the champions wouldn't last five minutes.

Dimwits.

The noise ceased suddenly. We looked up to see Dumbledore in the process of raising his goblet. "It is time." His voice echoed along the stone walls. "The best of luck to all our champions."

Krum and Diggory were the first to stand up amidst the loud cheers of their respective schoolmates. Potter followed and Fleur was last. I watched her walk among them toward the entrance hall before joining the rest of the students in their wake.

Yvette was worried. She was holding on to my arm rather roughly, and the contact irritated me. What, I had a problem with being touched by others! Don't judge me!

We caught up with the champions just before we reached the arena. Fleur looked over her shoulder, no doubt looking for us. "We're right behind you." Yvette said. I nodded my consent.

It was enough to reassure her. Fleur continued her confident walk toward the tent. Yvette was called back by the headmistress while I continued following the champions inside.

I had access to the tent after all.

Just as I made my way inside, Harry Potter turned to face me. "Hey mate." He said, "Thanks for heads up. Hermione told me and all, but I already knew. Hagrid told me."

I glanced at the younger boy, hoping that he had a good strategy. I felt a small pang of guilt. I didn't really help him much. I knew for a fact that he was entered forcibly, and I knew very well that whoever did it, wanted him to get hurt.

"Are you prepared? Do you have a plan?" I asked in a whisper.

He nodded, "I think so."

"Know so." I said with conviction, offering whatever advice I could at this point. "Know it, and you're already halfway there."

He gazed at me with such vulnerability that I found myself at a loss for words. "Thanks." He punctuated it with a nod and was off.

Bagman, Dumbledore and Karkaroff joined us in the tent. "Gather around, champions!" called the old man.

Bagman arranged them as he saw fit, holding a sack of sorts in his hand. I stood next to Fleur and watched silently. He was opening the neck of the purple silk sack. "Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur. She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck.

She looked over at me and I nodded. Well, we got lucky. The Welsh Green wasn't the most terrible of dragons.

I couldn't care less about the others. Fleur and I stepped back. It was almost time for me to leave her with the other champions. We sat on one of the beds. "Alright, we got lucky. The Welsh Green is probably the laziest dragon of them all. It's quick and light on its feet, but it's bound to get confused in no time."

"Mr. Laurence, it is time." Said Bagman.

I ignored the bastard. "Remember, don't stop moving. Keep the platforms separated and as far away from each other. When you get the chance, when it stops breathing fire to recuperate, strike and do not hesitate. Enchant it and retrieve the egg before it wakes up."

Fleur kept nodding throughout my rant. I thought about hugging her for support, but I decided that it would put extra pressure on her or make her feel that she would be facing death.

She was facing death alright, but no need to rub it in!

* * *

_Expect the freakin' unexpected._

* * *

Okay so Cedric Diggory was a badass.

Who would have thought, eh? I certainly respected him more after seeing him whack on that Short-Snout. I was in the stands with the other students and clapped politely when the Hogwarts champion stepped out with his egg tucked under his arm.

Fleur was nervous. As soon as she stepped out and caught sight of the dragon, the color drained from her face. She looked up at the crowd, scanning it until she caught my gaze. I nodded resolutely and clapped, Yvette joined me instantly.

Our plan was effective, that much I was certain of. Madame Maxime seemed to agree when I shared it with her. Alas, we couldn't help but worry. Delacour was agile, strong and quite talented. She was perhaps one of the most resilient witches I ever had the pleasure of knowing. I liked that about, I liked many things about her in fact, her-

A deafening roar interrupted my thoughts. You know what I saw next?

Fire. Lots of it.

Almost immediately the dragon spat fire at her. Fleur snapped into action, running along the arena and creating the first platform. The dragon, obviously, thought the twenty foot form to be a threat. It cast it a wary eye and attempted to set our champion on fire again.

Fleur was already on the move. A second platform joined the first, then a third. The dragon roared in fury. It felt threatened by the stone, stepping back, its chains making the most obnoxious sound.

I could see it; the dragon was assessing its situation. Fleur saw it, and paused atop one of the platforms.

I simply couldn't just sit there. I stood up, my heart beating in my ears. "NOW!" I roared into the silence of the arena. Fleur recognized my voice, and what followed was a true marvelous feat of magic.

Say what you will about Fleur Delacour, but that, my friends…

_That is a true champion._

Any idiot could whack on a dragon with conjured rocks. But it took talent to do what she did.

Fleur stood tall, imposing, graceful, commanding and fucking amazing, against the wrath of a beast, a beast that feared her. She raised her wand and a beautiful white beam of light glowed from the tip of her wand. It enveloped her, the dragon and all that was in between.

And then we were all caught in the beauty of her song.

She freaking sang to the beast and that fear was replaced by true horror in the dragon's eyes, horror that slowly turned to blank amazement and in turn into nothing at all.

I laughed and it snapped most of those around out of the trance. Some were soundly asleep before the dragon's head even hit the ground. The arena was silent. I counted to three.

And then all hell broke loose. Cheers rang from everywhere but Fleur was unmoving. She was as surprised that it worked as everyone else. Finally, she ran for the nest, grabbing the golden egg and making her way to the exit.

Before she could reach it however, a loud roar rang in our ears.

The dragon was awake.

Well shit.

* * *

_Sometimes, fate just likes to fuck with you._

* * *

Fleur turned to see the giant creature gain its feet. It thrashed around, violently, yanking the chains loose. And that was enough to set terror in the heart of the audience.

Fleur wasn't moving.

I mean, come on, honestly, Fleur? A loose dragon is mere feet away and you just stand there?

I turned to see a stunned headmistress next to me. No one was doing anything and I did not know why.

Being an adult messes with your reflexes, I guess.

We watched the dragon keepers attempt but fail at restraining the beast. I just had to do something.

I grabbed the staff from my headmistress's hand. The motion caught her attention. "Protego Maxima." I said to her. No matter what, the dragon had to be contained; else everyone in the crowd would lose their lives.

I turned and jumped over the stands, landing on the edge of the arena. The dragon didn't notice me and so I ran in Fleur's direction. It was a race.

Competitor number one: Olivier Laurence.

Competitor number two: A dragon's fire.

_Drum roll, please…_

I ran as fast as I could. Fleur was stunned, rooted to the spot. She was so stunned that she hardly noticed me running toward her or yelling her name. I reached her just as a spark of red appeared in my peripheral vision, right where the dragon was. I jumped, knocking my shoulder into Fleur's abdomen and rolling us both out of harm's way.

Fleur gasped and struggled to gain her breath. I knocked the wind out of her! Heh, that would be a good story to tell later on. _I once knocked a Veela breathless. _Oh yeah. Talk about being a stud.

"RUN!" I screamed at her, standing up and holding my staff before me. Fleur did as told, reaching the tent just as the shield charm performed by Madame Maxime and Albus Dumbledore snapped into place.

It was just me and the dragon on this side of the woods, boss.

_Yes sir. Just me, myself and a pissed off dragon._

The one thing you need to know about me is that I laugh in the face of danger. I don't do it because I'm a badass or anything, no no.

I attempt to make jokes in such a situation to get a grip and keep the fear at bay. "What's the matter, buddy? Did the bad Veela hurt you?" I chuckled, trying to find a quick way out of this.

No matter what, I was not singing.

Hell no, mate. Even I had a small amount of dignity.

I aimed the staff at the giant oak trees just beyond the arena. I raised it above me head in an arc, snapping the tree out of the ground and into the sky. It kept rising and rising and rising till it was barely visible. The dragon was busy glaring and sneering at me to notice.

Then it came at me.

No fire, no warning. It just charged.

I rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the sharp teeth. The tree began falling and I had to run to the further side of the arena before catching it again and raising it higher. There was no way I was going to cut through that hide, nor was it possible to burn it.

I had to crush it.

With a roar of my own, I brought the staff down in one slashing motion, bringing down the giant tree at an insane speed, just as the dragon rushed at me again. The beast reached the center of the arena.

And then the tree crashed.

It was a foolish risk on my part. Had I missed my aim, I would most likely lose my life to this enraged son of a bitch.

Thankfully, I didn't.

The tree caught the beast right in the neck, impaling it several feet into the ground. The arena shook with the force of the impact, dust and rubble blinded me for a few moments. It was a sick sight, the dragon was there, but the neck and head were not visible. I wanted to look down inside that crater, and see if there was any blood. I didn't kill it, I could see its chest expanding and contracting, breathing, but I did hope that I knocked it the_ fuck_ out.

I fell to my knees, drained and tired. I was no goddamn Albus Dumbledore. Using a staff and so much power behind the charm, not to mention supporting a pretty heavy tree drained me. Still, I was thankful for winning this battle.

Or so I thought.

Just as I got up and took two steps toward the exit, I could hear the crowd gasp and a loud swoosh followed. I turned to see what the hell they were on about.

And I received a sharp tail to the shoulder. As soon as it impaled itself through me, I felt an unusual numbness through my entire body. There was no pain at all, and that confused me. I was bleeding, that much was obvious, I can practically feel the life trickling from the wound but why didn't I feel pain?

Aaah, right. Shock…

I saw the dragon keepers rush in and restrain the tail, reapplying the chains. Sounds started to fade first, but I could see several figures rushing toward me. Oh, look, that's Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived! And look, that's… That's the sky? Did I fall? Yes yes, I did. Was it getting dark? Yes yes it was.

You see…

That's what happens before you die.

Well, screw it, I say.

At least I took a dragon down before the end.

* * *

_Oh yes, I'm a poor wayfaring stranger…_

_Traveling through this world alone._

_And there's no sickness, toil or danger,_

_In that bright land to which I go._

_And I'm going there to see my mother…_

_I'm going there…_

_No more to roam…_

* * *

**A/N:** There we go.

Yet another chapter, and as promised, a fight with a dragon. Brief, sweet, short and to the point, I say.

I hope you enjoyed that. This story didn't really attract much attention, but I'm honored that the few reading it have taken an interest. Olivier went down! *legasp* Hey now, the dude isn't that much of a badass… _yet._

Thank you all again for the support and reviews.

If you have any questions, any matters to address or simply are bored, I'm just a PM away.

**Trailer:** Next chapter, Sirius Black makes an appearance in the story, Fleur gets emotional and Seigneur Delacour has something to say about this unknown boy hanging around his daughter.

Follow, Review,

Or do whatever faithful Potterheads do.

Till next time,

Alec


	5. Vérité

Chapter 5: Vérité

**A/N: **Alright, I felt inspired after posting the last chapter last night. I started writing.

Anyway, The fifth chapter turned out alright, I hope.

Thank you for the support and the reviews.

* * *

Do you know that feeling when you're in bed attempting to fall asleep and the minutes tick by as if they were mere seconds? When your mind is wandering nowhere and everywhere and no thought makes any sense whatsoever? Some say that it is a transition from the world as we know it, to that of dreams and fairytales. They would tell you that those moments, are as close to the truth as we could get for that is as close to ourselves as we could ever reach.

Personally, I like to think that we are so out of it, that we are suspended between worlds, neither fully here, nor there, but somewhere in between. I like to believe that in that trance, we are at a crossroad. I like to believe that we can see the gates to all other worlds, and that near one of them, my mother, Maeva Laurence would be standing watch over me.

I just don't know how much more of this I can take.

When I woke the first time, I felt an extremely irritating itching sensation in my torso, especially my left shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes to see nothing but darkness. It took a few moments, but the world came into focus, and I could see a ceiling. It was late, that much I could tell, but I had no idea what time it was. I barely had enough strength to look around and as I did, I found that I was alone in a hospital of sorts, most likely the Hogwarts Hospital wing.

I groaned and closed my eyes again, finding that crossroad easier than before.

The second time I woke was because of all the noise everywhere around me. I opened my eyes to light, blinding light and I immediately squeezed them shut again. Slowly, I dared open them, and it was much better. This time, my head didn't feel just as heavy and I looked around to see a woman, dressed in a Healer's attire, tending to a younger girl's arm.

"Do be more careful in potions, dear." She said.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." The little girl answered before skipping to the door.

"Madam Pomfrey." I croaked, repeating the name I had just heard. The woman jumped in fright and turned to regard me. She stepped over, bringing a goblet along. "Here you go, Mr. Laurence, small sips now."

She helped me drink, and every drop of water was just as good as the one before. I couldn't even drink without feeling strained and so I groaned and fell back against the pillow. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Sore everywhere, mild headache and my shoulder is numb." I answered.

"Perfect English, perfect description." She said, "It's to be expected. That tail went through your shoulder. You should be getting better soon."

"What happened?" I asked, "After my injury."

"You injured that dragon enough for the Handlers to restrain it. Albus brought you into the tent; you were already losing a lot of blood. The Beauxbatons champion had to be forcibly removed because of the racket she was making. Thankfully, we reached you in time to fix you up. It should leave a scar though."

"Who's in the lead?"

"Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are tied for the lead." She gave me this disapproving glance, making me feel like I should be clutching my shoulder and whaling my misery. "How you can think of the tournament in this state is beyond me."

Pomfrey made her way to a desk not too far away. I wanted to ask if there were any meals around here soon but refrained. She scribbled something on a piece of parchment and tied it to an Owl's leg, letting it fly out the window.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I watched as two more students came in to see the Healer. It was only after some time that the woman realized only one was injured, while the other was ogling me.

Soon enough, the doors admitted one Albus Dumbledore. He approached, looking his same old powerful self. "Mr. Laurence, you're awake!"

I had half a mind to say something about his powers of deduction.

"Professeur Dumbledore." I said in greeting.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Sore and numb, but as Madame here says, it is to be expected."

"Excellent, excellent." Dumbledore was ecstatic. "That was a truly amazing performance last Sunday."

Well that had my attention. "What day is it, sir?"

"Tuesday. You have been unconscious for two days."

Damn!

I sighed and nodded. There wasn't much for me to say and I had a feeling Dumbledore wanted to be the first to see me for a reason. "There's something I would like to discuss with you."

Ding ding ding!

"Of course, monsieur."

Dumbledore took his time to sit at the edge of my bed. He glanced at the healer, seemingly giving a silent order because the woman immediately locked the infirmary doors.

"I never told you why your mother was in danger during the war." He said.

Ladies and gents, give it up for Albus Dumbledore, the best company in a hospital.

"When the dark lord emerged, there was a group of extraordinary witches and wizards that stood tall to fight the oncoming danger. They were different, yet one cause, a dream of a peaceful future united them together. They were professors, Aurors, healers and much more. The group was called the Order of the Phoenix."

I listened carefully. "mhm" I hummed my understanding, urging him to continue.

"I created the order to oppose Voldemort. Your parents were members. Your father's opposition of Voldemort was public knowledge. At the time, you were their greatest priority, Three years old, just a tiny lad. Your father insisted that you go into hiding."

I hated Sirius Black for that, but I did not voice it, merely nodding.

Dumbledore sensed my discomfort but carried on anyway. "What if I were to tell you, Olivier, that the dark lord is not truly gone?"

Well fuck!

I stared at the headmaster in disbelief. Oh come on! This was probably the most well played prank! Either that or I was still dreaming… Or hallucinating…

What was the old man on about? "Professeur?"

"Ever since his downfall, I have been keeping track of every whisper that might emerge. Over the past three years, Lord Voldemort has made several attempts to return. Thankfully, his plans were thwarted. This year however, I fear that we may not have the ability to stop it."

I thought on that for a few moments. If Dumbledore was right, and I had very little doubt, then the world as I knew it would change. I wouldn't even get the chance to know my father if another war takes place. "Professeur, why are you telling me about this?" I asked, knowing very well that Dumbledore would not share such information lightly.

The old man smiled. "I watched you defeat a dragon, Olivier. Three schools and a ministry watched you take down a beast that an average wizard cannot hope to oppose. You graduate at the end of the school year and I would like to ask you to join the Order."

* * *

_And I guess a Veela would be the downfall of any man._

* * *

I flipped the page and continued reading the book in my hand. It was the memoir of Mistress Davine's father, a very old wandmaker that knew his craft. She had sent me the book in order to keep track of things. The woman did not want a silly tournament to set back her apprentice.

I was reading a passage that speculated on the existence of some myths. It had something about Merlin's staff and the Elder wand.

Barmy old fool, as the English say.

I mean, seriously, this day has been so freaking out of a dream, I can only accept one fact at a time. To tell me that a dark lord was returning is one thing. To tell me that two myths existed that was too much.

I looked up, when someone stepped inside, to see Yvette standing there.

"Hey Yvette." I said casually. "Did you know that Mistress Davine's father was a- ugh, what the f-"

I was stopped mid-sentence when Yvette threw her arms around me and held me close. I was confused really, she never hugged me before and I was NOT eager for it to happen again. "Yvette?" I called, body stiff as a plank of wood and making no move to return her hug. "Everything alright?"

She didn't answer for a while, but when she did, she moved back to sit very close. Thankfully, she wasn't crying. "I was worried." She whispered.

"Nothing to worry about here. I have all my limbs and a functioning brain." I replied. "At least I got out of class for two days."

She looked like she wanted to hug me again. But Yvette was smarter than that. She knew I hated any displays of affection. "You were mentioned in the morning paper." She said, "Everyone's talking about your fight with that dragon."

"What did the papers say?" I asked, more interested in press coverage than in schoolboy rumors.

"They are speculating. Your relationship with Fleur, your staff, the sheer power that you used." She made a motion with her hand, indicating an infinite list.

"Huh." Was all I could say, deep in thought as I was. "You'd think they would keep it all under wraps."

"Too many people saw it happen. They absolutely couldn't." She shook her head.

"Where's my Staff?" I asked, because it was important.

"Madame Maxime has it." She assured me.

I shrugged. "Anyway, did you know Mistress Davine's father died at the age of one hundred and two? She didn't get the family business until she was forty. Bullocks if you ask me…"

* * *

_I'm a man with priorities set in order, set in stone. I lack no emotion, but I control everything that I possess._

_Hardcore and Confident, baby._

* * *

It was much later that I found myself dreading the appearance of whoever came next. I felt helpless, sitting up in a bed and people asking me every five minutes about how I felt.

I feel like wanking off, thank you for asking.

I couldn't even look at the memoir anymore. I should have asked Yvette to find me a trashy fiction tale to help pass the time, but I didn't really think about it back then.

Madame Maxime appeared in the Hospital wing late in the afternoon. She was a busy woman, and I was grateful that she even made time to visit me. Alas she was not alone. Trailing closely behind her was Fleur Delacour. Following Fleur was a face that I only saw in the papers.

Sebastien Delacour.

I stared, I will not lie, I stared. But so would you if the minister of magic was visiting you in the hospital wing. I felt very self-conscious, making sure to cover myself properly.

"Olivier, I was informed that you were awake." Maxime said.

"Madame." I inclined my head in respect.

"How are you feeling, Olivier?" Fleur asked, eager to participate.

"Better." I said. "Much better."

Fleur took advantage of the silence to introduce her father. "This is my father, Sebastien Delacour. Father, this is Olivier."

The minister stepped forward, both women silent and observing. He regarded me silently for a while before inclining his head ever so slightly and extending his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, monsieur."

I grasped the hand and shook it in a firm lock. "An honor, Minister."

Fleur sighed in apparent relief and stepped forward, forgetting all about her father and hugging me, much like Yvette did. I looked up at her father helplessly.

He was not amused.

Whatever perception the man had of me, it changed when he saw his daughter with her arms around me. I felt that Fleur was probably the most idiotic person to ever walk the planet for doing what she did. If she wanted her father to like me, she wasn't really doing a very good job at maintaining the progress we did.

"Fleur." The minister said, yet the one word, delivered in a calm and straight tone, carried more warning in its loins than any of us knew. Fleur stepped back and stood next to her father, eyes defiantly cast at me.

Another woman chose that moment to make her appearance in the Hospital wing. She looked a lot like Fleur. They shared the same hair color, skin tone and facial features.

I was in the Hospital wing with the minister's family.

"Monsieur Laurence." The woman seemed very ecstatic. "Médée Delacour. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"An honor to be in your presence, Madame." I offered.

"There are no words to describe our gratitude." She said. Clearly, the wife was the spokesperson for the family. "You saved our Fleur's life and that is something that we will never forget."

Oh Merlin when does this end?

"Fleur is very talented and capable of taking care of herself. It was a pleasure to offer assistance where I could. I merely did what anybody else would."

Was I not supposed to dismiss the praise?

I was met with the sight of a shocked mother, a suspicious father, a defiant daughter and a beaming headmistress.

It wasn't long before I felt warmth rolling off Madame Delacour in waves.

Oh I know what this is, the Allure test.

Well…

* * *

_Bring it on then._

* * *

Madame Maxime left shortly afterwards. Fleur's mother was a brilliant conversationalist. We talked about many things, mainly the strategy that Fleur used to get her egg. I explained the manipulation of the summoning charm and stressed the fact that her daughter grasped complete control of the spell's use in less than an hour. Sebastien's chest swelled with pride at that.

We talked about my obsession with Wandlore, of course we had to talk about the Staff. Médée told me that she knew Mistress Davine well and that in the past, they had shared more than a couple of glasses of wine.

After some time, Fleur's mother left under the excuse that she had to check on her youngest daughter. Fleur volunteered to join her, no doubt giving her father the privacy needed to say what he had on his mind.

Even Fleur wouldn't know what he did say to me.

Sebastien watched his wife and daughter leave before clearing his throat and taking the chair near my bed. I kept silent. Men like him certainly didn't like feeling indebted to anyone and I did not have any need to rub it in.

"Monsieur Laurence, allow me to stress that I am extremely grateful for your actions during the first task, and I appreciate the help that you offered Fleur." He said before drawing in a breath. "However, I cannot help but worry about exactly how close the two of you have gotten."

I cocked my head to the side in confusion. So far, all male adults did nothing but confuse me. "Monsieur?" I asked, not knowing what he was on about.

The minister glanced at me with a calculating gaze. "My daughter is the Beauxbatons champion, Monsieur Laurence and she is an exceptional witch. She is bound for greatness and I cannot let anything get in the way of her future."

Okay… Talk about a proud father.

"With that being said, I hope you take no offense in my next demand." Sebastien paused and stood up. "Do not get involved with my daughter."

That was a bombshell, alright.

I didn't know whether to feel hurt that this man did not think me good enough for his daughter, or amused because there was nothing between us. Either way, my expression may have given off the impression that I was confused, because Sebastien spoke again. "You are a good young man with great instincts, but my daughter's aspirations reach further than that. Do you understand?"

I had half a mind to tell off the French Minister of Magic. That would definitely add to my public image of badassery. Alas, I know that a father's greatest weakness is his daughter, and I respected the man for wanting better for her.

I did not attempt to tell him that there was never anything but headache and shouting in my relationship with his daughter. I did not get offensive nor did I look guilty.

I gave the minister an approving smile and it surprised him. "Yes, sir." I said.

Sebastien nodded and turned on his heel, leaving me to the sorrowful silence of the Hospital Wing.

Don't let anyone fool you. Were you in my shoes, had you been rejected by that man even for false reasons, it would hurt you, cut you further than a Welsh Green's tail. And cut me it did. It cut me at first, and then it cut me again.

I sat silent and it cut me some more.

* * *

_I could look into your eyes until the sun comes up._

* * *

They say a seer could look at you and see the bright soul beneath your flesh. They say a Veela can look at you and see your beating heart and flaming desire. They never tell you that an orphan can look at your family and see himself in your shoes. Nah, those parts don't fit in the story because hey, who wants to hear them?

People have had enough of the same old 'woe is me, my life is terrible, I am on my own' crap. What people want is someone that they can look up to. It won't matter whether said person could be alone or wetting the bed at night. As long as their hero seemed perfect and ruthless on the outside, completely in control of their world, it would all be fine.

That is because in our own naivety, we say that we need faith, we say that we need to believe in something. That's just a fancy way of saying that we acknowledge being a herd of sheep and that we like that about ourselves.

When the nurse cleared me to leave the next morning, I did not wait for Yvette to come and escort me out. I dressed and left the Hospital Wing.

I found my way through the castle. It took a little bit of time but I did find the Grand Staircase. It was easy to get to the Great hall from there, but I turned the other way and left through the Entrance Courtyard. I had no desire to be paraded in front of everyone, so I took a stroll outside.

Class be damned, I had a lot on my mind. I wanted more time with Albus Dumbledore, more memories of my mother. I wanted to know more about the order and I wanted, above all else, to accept his offer.

I wanted to fight for the cause my mother died for.

My thoughts trailed to yesterday's events. Sebastien Delacour's words rang clear in my mind. Why did he get the impression that I was getting involved with his daughter? I surely didn't seem all that satisfied being hugged by her, nor did I give off any hint of being too fond of her.

I wondered if she said something to him.

Unlikely.

I guess I wouldn't know eh, but I was sure Fleur, as brave as she was, would not be able to stare that man in the eye and say such a thing. Blinded by my thoughts, I had reached the lakeside, the spot where I usually light a fire and stare aimlessly at the distance. I was standing right where Fleur kissed my cheek right after we developed a strategy and right where Dumbledore found me that first night.

So many memories attached to this very patch of earth and I could only crave many more.

I'm armed, not with wands, Staves or knowledge. I'm armed with memories that did not belong to me. I'm armed with an aspiration; just like Sebastien knew his daughter was, and my aspirations reached further than any Delacour could _fucking_ see.

I had a purpose. And that made me stronger than ever.

* * *

_You and whose army?_

* * *

Over the duration of the next two weeks, my shoulder felt normal again. I received a lot of mail from various different people congratulating me on my heroic feat, hailing me as a hero or wanting to see me personally. The reaction within Hogwarts wasn't very different. Many people were eager to shake my hand. The students certainly felt even more at awe of me. No one felt brave enough to engage me in a conversation, and that was fine by me. People either stared in awe or rushed to introduce themselves.

Oh and there was also the squealing reaction.

Ever heard a girl giggle-squeal?

I'd lie if I said that I didn't marvel at the attention, I basked in that shit. It made me feel confident, it gave me a boost that I needed for a long time. But it was embarrassing as I tend to mess up quite a lot. And really, when people are watching you all the time, it would be really bad to mess up.

And then my anxiety kicked in.

And I got even more comfortable.

Still, I was the same Olivier Laurence I always was. Fleur didn't like that. She probably thought that we were closer than before. And for a short while we were. Going through training and a dragon with someone would help a lot with that.

But I had her father's words in my head. And so, I did distance myself from here. We ate at meal, hung out with Yvette and talked about the normal affairs as usual. She attempted to pull me into another one of her "word games" and flirtatious banter but I always stopped her before she could.

Anyway, after two weeks of the same repetitive routine and giving Fleur the cold shoulder, Yvette plucked up the courage to confront me about it. We joined the other students leaving the castle for Hogsmeade. I was eager to see this town, hoping for a wandmaker's shop was open so I could examine their samples. It was just the two of us, admiring the scenery as we walked in silence.

"What happened to you?" Yvette asked.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" She hesitated. "You've been the same around me really, but you've been distant…"

I sighed, "Is this about Fleur?"

Yvette nodded, "She doesn't understand why you treat her so… so professionally."

Heh, nice choice of words. "No one understands why I treat anybody in any way."

"That's not the point." Yvette contradicted. "Is this about how things used to be?"

"I told you, I never held it against you. Either of you." I said, "It's complicated."

Yvette didn't say anything for a while, but I guess she couldn't resist. "I'm sure you can explain it in words I can understand."

"She's the minister's daughter, Yvette." I said simply.

"So what? You're quite the big deal yourself!" Yvette didn't understand simple words, it seemed.

"Yvette." I said, capturing her attention. "She's the minister's daughter." I said slowly, raising an eyebrow and hoping she got it.

Her eyes widened, "Oh…" She said faintly. "Oh I'm sorry…"

"It doesn't matter. He had the wrong idea, really. He thought we were involved." I explained as we resumed our walk.

Yvette didn't say anything and I feared the worst. "Yvette, you cannot tell anyone." I warned.

"But I-"

"Not even Fleur, especially Fleur."

Yvette sighed. "I don't understand older men."

I laughed. "That's what makes them more interesting."

Yvette raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know?"

I shrugged and tilted my head in the direction of the throng of younger girls following us around. "They wouldn't be there if they understood what a jerk I am."

We entered Hogsmeade to the sounds of Yvette's laughter.

* * *

_Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep and you weep alone._

* * *

Sunday morning found me walking with Albus Dumbledore toward the castle gates. It was a chilly December morning and the old man was silent for a long time. When he broke it, it was to say the unexpected.

"We are leaving the castle today." He said.

"Where are we going, professeur?" I asked. I had a problem with going somewhere unknown with old men.

"The headquarters of the Order." Was his reply.

"Will I be swearing a magical oath, monsieur?" I asked. It seemed like the sensible thing to do.

"Oh no, my dear boy!" Dumbledore chuckled. "Nothing nearly as dramatic. Now read and memorize this." He handed me a scrap of parchment.

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

"We are going to London?" I asked.

"Memorized it?" The old man answered with a question of his own.

I nodded and he smiled, extending his arm. "Hold on to my arm, now."

I did as told and almost immediately, the sickening twist of apparition sharpened my senses.

We appeared in London alright. The street was practically deserted, and thankfully no one saw us appear out of the unknown. I kept thinking about the words I memorized and almost immediately, the building expanded and a door appeared.

We approached the house and Dumbledore pushed open the door.

The house was a mess. I definitely didn't get shivers out of nothing. It had nothing to do with temperature, but Merlin be damned! The house was out of a nightmare.

"Albus?" A female voice said from down the corridor. I could see shadows in the room ahead. "Is that you?"

Dumbledore walked ahead of me, and I followed at my own pace, studying my surroundings and trying to find anything that was off about it.

Frankly the whole damn place was off.

Point to the wizarding world and its quirky nature.

A girl with pink hair appeared at the door of the room ahead. "Tonks." Dumbledore said. "I would like you to meet Olivier Laurence." The old man continued past the girl and disappeared into the room.

"Blimey!" The girl exclaimed. "You're a badass." She said.

Well, I liked this one.

"Your hair is pink." I said.

"Bright one, isn't he?" She chuckled. "I'm Tonks, Auror Extraordinaire."

"Olivier." I said, "Resident Badass."

"Come on." She said and turned to follow Dumbledore's trail. I entered the room and found myself in a kitchen of sorts. There were quite a few people there. Dumbledore took care of the introductions.

"This is Kingsley Shacklebolt." The tall black wizard nodded. "Emmeline Vance." A stately looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined her head.

"Sturgis Podmore." A square-jawed wizard with thick straw-colored hair winked. "Hestia Jones." A pink-cheeked, black-haired witch waved form next to the toaster. "You've met young Nymphadora Tonks." Tonks huffed.

"And Remus Lupin."

Remus Lupin.

My mother's protector.

The man looked sickly, faintly scarred but smiled at me nonetheless. He stood from his seat and approached. I must have looked thankful because he nodded in understanding and extended a hand. "Nice to see you again, Olivier."

I grasped his hand and kept my eyes on his. "Thank you." I whispered, feeling emotional for the first time in a long time. "For everything."

Lupin put his free hand on my shoulder and said nothing at all.

* * *

_The powerful and mighty are often forgotten. The brave of heart are always remembered._

* * *

We moved to a meeting room. There was a long table in the middle. I wanted to talk to Remus in private, to get as much information of him as I could. I wondered briefly where my father was, but I kept silent. I was the new guy, and as such, I had to be respectful to my hosts.

"You have been quite the topic of discussion here, Olivier." Dumbledore said conversationally. "Young Nymphadora is a big fan."

Said Auror's hair turned red. I blinked at her to make sure that I wasn't seeing things. "Either that is a very brilliant charm or you are a-"

"A Metamorphmagus." Tonks confirmed.

"Most people take longer to catch on." Remus said.

I smiled at the man. I couldn't help it.

"You are a brilliant wizard, Olivier." Dumbledore said. "And you are connected to the order in more ways than most. It is for that reason that I asked you to join us."

"I will not deny that my curiosity was the reason that I wanted to know more." I said, looking nervously around the table. "But I believe in doing what is right. If my skills are of any use, I implore you to use them."

My words earned me an encouraging nod from Remus.

"You will always be welcome here." Remus said.

"What is 'here' exactly?" I said.

"This is the ancestral home of the Black family." Dumbledore said.

This was my father's house then.

"It is currently being used as Headquarters. It would prove to be a safe haven should the need arise."

"You told me that you suspect the dark lord is attempting to return." I said.

Dumbledore nodded and sighed. "We were able to anticipate his actions in the past. This time we have nothing to go on but feelings of dread and a chain of unfortunate events."

"Perhaps I can offer some insight." I urged.

"During the Quidditch World cup, Death Eaters attacked the camps. At the beginning of the school year, you and I witnessed a very unusual event." Dumbledore began.

"The Goblet of Fire's election of Harry Potter."

"Exactly." Said Dumbledore. "High Master Karkaroff's presence at Hogwarts worries me. He was a convicted Death Eater long ago and he shared his concerns with an undercover individual that the Dark Lord is returning. Alas, he does not know or when."

We sat in silence for a while. "And then the dragon." I said. Everyone watched me with rapt interest. "The dragon was enchanted and shouldn't have woken up when it did. The chains should not have snapped."

I looked up and caught Dumbledore's eye. "There's an active Death Eater at Hogwarts."

"I suspected as much." The old man blew out a breath. "Alas, we cannot know who."

I was told during the meeting that Sirius Black was in Hogsmeade to meet his Godson, Harry Potter.

I never really imagined that we would be linked by a fundamental element, but there you go. By the time it was noon, Dumbledore and I were preparing to leave. Remus saw us to the hallway, assuring me that he would write soon and perhaps visit if the chance presented itself. He promised me stories of my youth, and I was very grateful.

We were about to leave when the door opened. A man whose face I saw in wanted posters came in, looking less insane and far healthier. Sirius Black walked in and I couldn't do anything but stare. He caught my eye and recognized me.

He knew who I was and he stared as well.

I wanted to do many things. I wanted to hug him and cry on his shoulder.

And I saw an image of my mother, I saw a memory. And it filled me with rage.

"Sirius Black?" I asked, for confirmation more than disbelief.

He nodded, eyes growing distant and watery.

I nodded as well and reared my arm. I roared and clocked him in the jaw.

My father fell in a heap to the floor. I stood over him, watching the shock on his face and ignoring Tonks' gasp. "It's nice to finally meet you."

I walked out the door and didn't look back. Dumbledore followed and we walked in silence. Surely, we could apparate but I felt like walking. I wanted to think clearly. He deserved that, my father did. And I wasn't in the slightest bit sorry for it. He had left my mother to die and he had to feel the pain for it. I knew a punch wasn't really enough.

But to know that his son held it against him would surely sting harder.

"Did he choose Harry over me?" I asked after a while.

"He couldn't leave the country after his escape from Azkaban." Dumbledore replied gently. "He didn't know where you were."

"I meant before." I hissed.

Dumbledore was quiet for a long time. "All that Sirius Black has ever done was to protect his family."

* * *

_While you sleep at night, someone, somewhere, is keeping watch over you._

* * *

I didn't know what to feel.

I could punch Sirius Black a thousand times in the face and it wouldn't be enough. I could punch him once and feel immensely guilty about it. Was I wrong to pin it all on him? I didn't get the impulse to punch Dumbledore, did I? But then again, Dumbledore was not my father and I could blame him as much as the next muggle.

But underneath it all, I was but an orphan. I longed to be held by my father and told that I was loved. I wanted to see him proud of me and spend time with him.

Merlin, I'm an idiot.

I shouldn't have punched him.

But maybe he deserved it.

Just a little bit anyway.

I sat all afternoon by the lake until the sun disappeared over the horizon. I sat there and thought about everything that changed over the past few months. I used to be the unknown orphan sleeping in the storage room of a wand shop. I became the creator of the Staff, defeater of dragons and member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Oh and not so orphan anymore.

Talk about a plot twist, eh?

I was so out of it that I forgot to light a fire as usual. It wasn't until it appeared on its own that I looked up.

Fleur was standing there with her wand in hand and looking quite venomous. "Can I sit here or do you still have a broom lodged up your rear?"

I chuckled, feeling amused for the first time since I woke up. "Have at it."

Fleur sat down next to me. "I never got the chance to apologize."

I frowned. "Whatever for?"

"The whole dragon incident. I was frozen in fear, I just couldn't…"

"Don't be too hard on yourself, anyone would freeze." I shrugged.

"You didn't." Fleur retorted.

"Well we all know that I'm an abnormality." I deadpanned.

Fleur smiled, "Nevertheless, thank you."

I nodded and silently looked over the horizon.

"I have something to ask." Fleur said.

Oh great. "Hmm?" I turned to look at her.

She hesitated, then blushed, then hesitated again. "Olivier… Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

And yet another plot twist.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"The Yule Ball. It is just weeks away and I would like you to go with me." Fleur said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I thought about it for a little while. It was damn flattering that she wanted me to go with her, and I seriously wanted to as well.

But her father said something about higher aspirations.

"I'm sorry, I can't." I said.

"What? Why not?" She screeched. Heh, I had Delacour doubting herself.

"I'm not going to the ball." I said quickly. Well, it was true. I didn't really feel like dancing in dress robes.

"Well why not?" She asked again.

"I have my reasons!" I snapped.

"What's wrong with you, Olivier? You have been strange around me lately!"

She was irritating me. Of all the days, it had to be the day I met my father.

"Whatever." I groaned and stood up, making my way back to the carriage.

"Hey!" I heard Fleur run after me. She stood in front of me, blocking the way. "Why are you acting like this?"

"What do you want from me, Fleur?" I yelled, matching her tone. "Six months ago you were better than me and now you want me to go to the ball with you?"

She looked at me in shock. Her eyes seemed ready to spill with tears.

What a day!

I brushed past her and headed for the carriage. I hurried to my room and closed the door in my wake.

"_My daughter's aspirations reach further than that."_

Leaning against the wall, I drew in a breath.

_"Are we training or will you be leering at me all day?"_

I grabbed the closest item, a book, and flung it across the room as hard as I could.

_"Will you be watching with the rest of the crowd on Sunday?"_

It hit the water pitcher and shattered it to pieces. My roommate, whose existence hadn't been clear until then, gasped and took a step away from me.

_"I never doubted you."_

* * *

_I never catch a break, I swear._

* * *

_Dearest Olivier,_

_Words fail me every single time that I try to write this letter. How do I even begin asking for your forgiveness? Merlin knows I don't deserve it, but I still feel the need to ask for it. I wronged you, I know. I failed you and I failed Maeva as well. Her blood is on my hands and I think about her every day, every minute and I curse my name to the heavens for every breath I draw that she does not._

_Our lives, you and I, do not bear the sweetness that others may possess. You and I grew out of everything that wasn't right, but still, we found our way. I am so very proud of you, son. I am so very proud of what you have become. _

_Every day now I try to make things right. But there are matters out of our reach. Perhaps I made wrong choices in the past, chief among them not being there that fateful night, or not watching you grow ever since._

_Your righteous anger makes me even more proud. I know that I have no right to consider myself a father, for I have not been one, and I will respect your decision should you choose not to let me make up for all those lost years._

_But do grant me the chance to give you something that I held on to for Seventeen years. Let me give you all that I know. I loved Meava more than life itself. And I held on to her memory, to our time together. You stand proof of our love. _

_I know it may not mean much to you or make much of a difference._

_But for all that it's worth, I am so very sorry._

_To you, to Maeva and to love,_

_Sirius._

I folded the letter and placed it on by bedside table. Two days have passed since I punched my father in the face, two days since the last time I saw Fleur and two days since the last time I left my room. I needed even more time to think.

Alas, I couldn't block out the world and sink into depression. Madame Maxime would surely understand the need to take a couple of days but I had classes to attend and a life to lead.

I dropped back against the pillow, hands behind my head and thoughts of forgiveness, of passion and greatness made me feel lightheaded. I decided that I would soon make an appearance at Headquarters and mend things with my father.

Within reason, of course. He had a lot to answer for.

Thoughts of banging my father's head against a wall were in perfect sync with the abrupt and sudden banging on my door. My roommate looked up from his newspaper (_my face was on the front page_), and frowned at the sound.

"Is that prick in there?!" Came Fleur Delacour's voice.

My roommate made to get up and open the door. "Hey." I said, stopping him in place. "You don't want to answer that."

As soon as I said the words, the door was flung open and a red-faced Fleur appeared in the frame. She walked inside and looked around, spotting my roommate and freezing him in place with an icy glare. "Leave." She ordered.

He practically ran from the room.

Coward.

I stood from my bed and waved my wand at the door to close it, shielding us from the many curious faces peeking inside. "Hey Fleur, come in. Make yourself at home." I drawled, tossing my wand on the bed.

"You're an absolute prick! A heartless idiot!" She raged.

_The fuck did I do now?_

"Alright." I said carefully. "What did I do to earn getting yelled at?"

"Yvette told me! My father warned you away!" She paced back and forth. "And you!" She pointed her finger at me. "You listened! So that's it? You're afraid of my father? Is that why you won't go to the ball with me?"

"No." I said.

That seemed to catch her off-guard. I was damn good at confusing her. "Well yes, but I'm not afraid of your father. I listened to him because he knows what's best for you." I said, choosing my words carefully.

"And I don't?" She asked, sounding scandalized.

"You don't!" I said. "Do you think your father hates you? He wants what's best for you!"

"I'll decide what's best for me!" Fleur hissed.

"Well if you think that a wand maker's apprentice with nothing to his name is what's best for you, then maybe your father's right to make decisions for you!" I said in the same breath. Phew, that was an impressively long but accurate sentence.

Fleur remained silent, but she was still glaring at me, still red-faced, equally embarrassed and angry.

"And what are you yelling at me for?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be yelling at your father instead?"

Good thing about angry people, you only need to point them in the right direction. She nodded solemnly and marched out of my room. I felt bad for the Minister really, I did. He shouldn't have stuck around this long.

I sighed and walked to the door, peering down the hallway to see Fleur's retreating form. Phew, I made it, and she didn't even bring up the ball.

"We're not finished! We'll continue this later!" She yelled over her shoulder.

Well maybe I didn't make it. I glanced at the curious few standing around the hallway. "A pleasant morning, isn't it?"

One guy nodded uncertainly at me. "Well then, enjoy." I said before stepping back inside.

* * *

_We laugh in the face of tragedy, and cry for comedy._

_Say what you will, but I think we got it all wrong._

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter down, fifty more to go.

Thanks for the reviews and support.

Till next time,

Alec.


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